The Era of Holmes
by Molly-Woggy-Weetabix
Summary: "Help. Such a strange word, when you say it people come to your aid, but why is it that when I shout it out, no one comes to save me?" Travel through every year of Sherlock's life to find out what made him, him. May contain disturbing features much later.
1. 3 Hours old

**Hello this is another of my stories and I have still not learnt to not do more than one at a time. I will finish Battle of the Anonymous eventually, but I am finding much more interesting stories to write for the moment, like this one. The more sinister subjects will only appear in roughly chapters 8 and onwards, I will warn you when they are coming up. I'm not going to write in third person forever, it is only for when Sherlock is not capable of thinking and talking for himself, it will be written in first person at the age five maybe four, I'm not sure yet. But enough talk from me, lets get on with the story, hope you like it. Please don't be put off because I will put it as M that is to just be safe and it won't be a proper M for a while. Please review.**

**I do not own Sherlock, it is simply a hobby to write the stories. That's it. :D**

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******The Era of Holmes**

_3 hours old:__ Deciding a name_

The little baby lay peacefully in his mother's arms, not stirring or crying, he had jet black hair and looked very scrawny and thin, he had glass blue eyes with a grey tint and was quite small for a baby. His mother smiled at him constantly, never taking her eyes off of him. She finally looked away when there was a knock at the door of her room.

"Come in." Two men walked in with a young boy in front of him, he looked the age of eight or nine and one of the men was at least sixty-three he moved over to her and gave her a gentle hug. "Hello father."

"How are you feeling Emily?" The younger man spoke; he wasn't a doctor because he didn't look like one so he must have been family or her husband which was more likely.

"I'm fine thank you, Richard." She noticed the other boy slowly walk towards her. "Come say hi to your baby brother, Mycroft." He then skipped over to get a better look at his new sibling.

"What is his name?"

"We haven't decided yet, you can help out if you want." Mycroft jumped in excitement at the idea which made the three adults laugh.

"Can I hold him, Em?" Her father had asked, she nodded to him and slowly passed the youngster over. He held him close and softly spoke.

"Hello, there. I'm your granddaddy, if ever you need help with something, whether it is money or just someone to talk to, I'll always be here for you... always." He nuzzled his nose on the baby's forehead ever so softly which made the child giggle slightly, the sound nearly brought a tear to his eye of happiness.

"Right, names please or we won't get anywhere." She laughed slightly. Names were suddenly thrown at her. Things like _Elliot, Jeremy, Luke, Eli, Ethan, Richard Junior, Samuel, Arthur, Harry _and _Michael._ "As lovely as they are I can't see him with any of those names, I'm sorry."

"Mycroft!" The little boy suggested with a wide grin on his face.

"No, Mycroft, that's your name and a very special one it is too." His father placed a hand on his shoulder as he told him. "What about the name of my grandfather, Sherlock?" Emily took a while to think about it.

"Yes... yes I can see that. Dad can you pass him back?" He gave her the baby and she looked at his carefully, testing to see if the name worked, he had his eyes closed at the time. "Sherlock?" And at that moment she knew Sherlock was the name as he slowly opened his eyes to look at his mother. She could have sworn that he smiled at her at that very moment as well.


	2. Age 1

**Here's the next chapter. I've been thinking too far ahead and getting lost in the moment because ideas are coming to my head and I'm realising that's why ****he doesn't eat much or that's why he's so unable to fall in love, etc... and it's making me want to get on with those chapters and get these ones out of the way. The ones with more "action" will have more care to them but in the meantime, you'll have to live with this, it's not bad but I can only say I could do better, maybe I'll rewrite, who knows. Right please review and enjoy the nice happy family scene for as long as it lasts because things will get ugly. :D**

**I DON'T OWN SHERLOCK! Ok..?**

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**The Era of Holmes**

_Age 1: First birthday_

Sherlock lay still in his cot like he had been for the past few naps, never being disturbed by a dream or needs. His mother, Emily Holmes, had been watching him silently from the door of the nursery. She smiled at how sweet and innocent he looked, life was perfect. She had a loving husband, two wonderful children and a father who would do whatever it takes to make things better for her, what more could a person ask for? Richard Holmes walked to the nursery doorway and wrapped his arms around his loved one.

"How has he been?"

"Like an angel, not stirred one bit." She rested her head on his chin and smiled at the little baby. "I can't believe he's one already."

"Time flies too fast." They both chuckled. "Next thing you'll know is you're eighty."

"I know, scary. Father should be arriving in a few minutes, where's Mycroft?"

"He's in his study doing his homework." Richard kissed her neck passionately.

"Really..? It's his baby brother's birthday and you have him doing his homework? Go and get him, bring him in to see Sherlock." She removed his arms from her waist and he stepped back.

"I'll be a few seconds." Richard walked off through the enormous house in search of Mycroft's study. Emily walked further into the nursery to look at Sherlock more closely, his thick curly black hair and blue/grey eyes stood out like the colour black on white. She placed both hands on the side of the cot and looked in; he was awake and gave her a little giggle.

"You are so precious." She slowly lowered her arms and picked him up, holding him close she turned around to look out of the window. A car pulled up outside the house and a man stepped out of the back passenger seat, it was Emily's father "Look, Sherlock, your grandad is here." She tried to position the baby to look out of the window but he just wanted to snuggle into her shoulder. Her father looked up to the window and waved to her, she waved back and left to find Richard or Mycroft, luckily she came across both at the same time. "Father is here, could one of you get the door?"

"I'll get it, Mycroft stay with your mother." Richard walked off down the hallway, the sound of his feet could be heard when he was walking down the stairs.

"Mummy... Can I hold him?"

"Of course you can, sweetie. Don't drop him though." Emily crouched down and handed Sherlock to Mycroft who took him in his open arms. He held his baby brother close to his chest and heard him gurgling.

"Why is he making a weird noise mummy?"

"That's what baby's do. You will have made those noises too, Mycroft." He looked up at his mother in confusion as if he didn't believe that he would ever make strange noises like his brother was doing at this moment in time. "You don't have to look so shocked about it, Mycroft. It's a natural thing. Come on, let's go and see grandad. Are you going to keep hold of Sherlock?"

"Yes mummy, I won't let him go." She smiled at her eldest son and they both proceeded walking to the stairs. Emily noticed her father sat in an armchair in the living room; she and Mycroft reached the bottom of the stairs and Emily went to hug her father as he stood up to embrace her.

"How's my little girl?"

"I'm fine thank you, father. Have you been offered a drink?"

"Yes thanks, petal." He turned to Mycroft and saw Sherlock in his arms. "And look at him! I must say the older you get the older I feel." He took Sherlock off of Mycroft and held him up in the air; Sherlock looked very sleepy but still managed a smile for his grandad.

"Here you go Mr Cartwright." Richard handed Emily's father a mug of coffee he accepted it.

"Richard, how many times do I have to tell you? It's Joe or dad if you want."

"Yes, I'm sorry... Joe." He smiled at the thought of using his father-in-laws first name. Richard walked over to Mycroft and ruffled his hair which made them both smile. "We don't want you feeling left out, because you're not."

"I know daddy. Because family is everything, like you always say."

"Yes, I do always say that because it's true." Richard smiled at Mycroft again. Emily appeared from the kitchen with a present.

"Look at what we have for Sherlock." Her voice seemed unusually higher than normal in other words she was using baby talk.

"What have we got here?" Her father joined in the strange voice. The present was about the same size as Sherlock, so not big, but not small. Emily placed it down on the floor and her father put Sherlock down next to it.

"Can I help him open it... _please_?" Mycroft asked so sweetly.

"Well, as he isn't able to do it himself and that you asked so nicely... yes you can." She smiled at his joy. Mycroft sat down with Sherlock and he began to help him open the present, Sherlock wasn't doing anything, he was just intrigued by what Mycroft was doing. At some point Sherlock crawled closer to the present and took a hold of it himself, tearing off a corner.

"Sherlock let me do it. You're just going to make a mess." And Sherlock did, he sat back crossing his legs and just grinned at Mycroft who smiled back. Mycroft had finally opened the present to find it a standing trolley type of thing. "Look Sherlock." And once again he did. Sherlock adored his brother, whatever he did Sherlock would try to do, and whatever he told him to do Sherlock listened, he was a fast learner, but he hadn't gotten the hang of speech or walking yet. You could tell he was going to be a genius when he was older though. Sherlock slowly moved towards the present again and grabbed onto the handles that were supplied, very carefully he tried to lift himself up but failed. Emily came to help him out, she grabbed onto his thin waist and helped him up slowly so that he was standing, she never let go because she knew he would fall straight away. The whole time Sherlock smiled even when he fell down he never let his smile go. He enjoyed his first birthday, even though he will never remember it.


	3. Age 2

**Next chapter, I have included a childhood story of mine in this, which I do not own by the way. Thank you so much for all of the reviews it really helps me make a difference to how I approach the story. Hope you enjoy this, I would have written quotes from the book but I couldn't find it in my swamp of a bedroom. :D Please review, thanks.**

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The Era of Holmes**

_Age 2: Story time_

Mycroft was sitting in the grand living room in front of the fire, he was working on his homework... well he was until Sherlock wandered in.

"My-myke..?"

"What is it Sherlock? I'm a bit busy at the moment." Mycroft put his pen down and turned to his little brother.

"Why?" He stumbled over to Mycroft and held out a hand for balance on the chair he was sat on.

"Because, Sherlock, it will help me get a job in the future." Sherlock held his arms up to his brother, he obviously wanted picking up, and Mycroft did lift him up so he was sat on his knee. Sherlock wrapped his small arms around his brother's neck and snuggled up to him.

"Bu- My-myke..."

"What's wrong Sherlock? Do you want something?" Sherlock looked up to his brother and smiled. "What?" He then looked to the distance and started grumbling and indicating he wanted something, Mycroft turned around to look at what he wanted but all he could see was a bookshelf. "You want a book?" Sherlock nodded still smiling at him. Mycroft shuffled the chair back and stood up from his seat still clinging on to his brother. He approached the shelf and started looking. "What do you want?"

"Tha- one" He pointed to a book, Mycroft was about to pick it up when he saw what it was.

"The history of autopsies, Sherlock... really?" He nodded happily at Mycroft. "Wouldn't you prefer..." Mycroft had a look around at the bookshelf until he spotted a suitable book. "How about Thomas the tank engine?"

"No! Want that!" He pointed furiously at the first book.

"Sherlock, I'm not going to read this to you. I will pick the book and we'll go to your room and you can nap after I have read it. Ok?"

"Ok-y My-myke" Mycroft picked a book from the shelf called 'The Faraway Tree' it was a series of books, it wasn't too old but it wasn't too young like Thomas the tank engine. Mycroft used to have this story read to him when he was younger now he could share its wonders with his baby brother. He had read one of the stories to him before, Sherlock liked this book and he always without a doubt fell asleep after each chapter. Mycroft carried Sherlock up the stairs and down the long hallway to his room, placing Sherlock in his cot and pulled up a chair to sit and read to him. Sherlock was standing in the cot and resting his arms on the side so he could rest his head and listen to the story he loved so well. Mycroft began to read but this thing was, when he read Mycroft made sure that every word meant something and that he was not just throwing them away like any old rubbish, these words were special and he gave them that magical feeling and just like his mother did for him, he was doing for Sherlock. Towards the end of the chapter Mycroft noticed out of the corner of his eye Sherlock's eyelids were getting heavier until he slowly lowered himself onto his bed sheets. Mycroft finished the chapter and noticed Sherlock was fast asleep, he tucked him under his covers and leaned over to gently kiss his forehead. Mycroft walked over to the door and placed a hand on the light switch.

"Sleep well, Sherlock." He turned out the lights and left the room closing the door behind him, all you could hear was Sherlock's faint mumbling in his peaceful sleep.


	4. Age 3

**Hello my dear friends. Sorry it has taken me so long to get around to uploading but homework got in he way (Curse you homework!) So anyway here is Sherlock aged 3, must let you all know he has a magnifying glass in this, hope you like it. I still do not own Sherlock, but one day you will see, one day IT WILL BE MINE! MUHAHAHAHAHA! I'm sorry I can get carried away. Please review, thanks.**

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The Era of Holmes**

_Age 3: Parent consultation_

Sherlock was sat in his mother's lap while they were waiting to be called in; he kept smiling and never letting it drop as he always did. It was his first year at nursery and he loved it. Emily and Richard weren't so sure about sending him to a public nursery as Mycroft had been taught the basics at home but her father had insisted he had a life outside of the house. It turned out to be quite good for him; he was happy and making friends easily. Sherlock would come home from nursery and talk about nonsense to anybody who was willing to listen. Finally someone came to call the Holmes family in. Emily picked Sherlock up in her arms and held him close as he snuggled his head into her chest whilst she walked into the room with Richard close behind. There was a woman sat at the desk, she looked young and smart with her brown hair tied into a neat bun.

"Ahh... Mr and Mrs Holmes, please have a seat." And they did so, Sherlock was once again placed on Emily's knee but he still hugged her.

"So then... what has or little Sherlock been up to?" Richard spoke first as he ruffled Sherlock's hair to make him giggle, it was the sweetest thing you would have ever heard.

"He's... well... he's just... perfect. He is polite and respectful; he has made friends quite easily and gets on well with everyone. And because of his actions the other children quickly follow keeping the hassle down." Sherlock looked at the woman across the table from him and he smiled at her as he recognised who she was, she smiled back. "Hello, mister." She put on a baby voice and in return he giggled shyly but he soon snapped out of the shy emotion.

"So... he hasn't been any trouble?"

"No, far from it, we couldn't have asked for a better child, thank you." She was still smiling. Sherlock began to struggle in his mother's lap; he was trying to get down to the floor. Emily took him off of her lap and placed him on the floor, holding his hand to keep him steady. All eyes were on the toddler as he began to make his way around the room.

"Sherlock, don't go wandering off."

"Oh he's ok; this room is completely child friendly." She continued to talk to the parents whilst Sherlock had a wander around the room. He went behind her desk and opened a drawer to find something odd and unusual to him. It had a big glass circle with black plastic surrounding it with a plastic handle; he had picked it up and tapped the glass to see if it did anything. Sherlock closed the drawer and sat down with his back to it, he continued to look at the device. He then placed it up to his head and looked through the glass craning his neck back and all of a sudden everything became immense. He took it from his eye quickly to cause his teacher to notice him; he looked up at her and smiled innocently.

"What's this you have then?" She took it from him and he began to grumble at her, reaching his arms up to symbolise for her to give it back. "What do you want a magnifying glass for? He is so cute, where did you get him." Emily and Richard looked at each other lost for words when the teacher suddenly laughed. "I'm joking, here you go." She gave the magnifying glass back to Sherlock and he took it happily and began to cradle it in his small arms.

"What do you have a magnifying glass for in your room?" Emily asked her in confusion.

"Oh... it's a long story. Something had happened to the room because of one of the children and we needed it to find out what they had done." She smiled again, you could tell she wasn't exactly brand new to this job but she hadn't been here long. "Well... I see no need to keep you any longer."

"Come on Sherlock" Richard called to him and he came plodding along from behind the desk still holding the magnifying glass. "We can't take this with us." Richard tried to take it off of him but he refused to give it up. "Sherlock, give it to daddy."

"No."

"Sherlock-"

"It's alright. He can keep it." Richard looked at her.

"No we couldn't, thank you anyway."

"Please, it's no bother. If he wants it he can have it. I don't mind. I'm sure the nursery won't either." She smiled, again. Richard looked down at his son who was hugging the magnifying glass close to his chest and giving his father watery eyes.

"Fine, thank you. I don't know why he needs it but... thank you again."

"No problem." Richard scooped Sherlock up in his arms and walked out of the door followed closely by the teacher, she had come out for the next meeting with more parents. "Mr and Mrs Moriarty?"

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**Hope you like the ending, it even took me by surprise when I was writing it. I don't know if it will lead anywhere but I just felt like putting it. Please review to keep the magic ALIVE! Lol**


	5. Age 4

**I am so, so, so, so, so, so, sorry for the long wait, it took me forever to think of something, so here it is, please don't hate me for making you wait that long. I have a song in here if anyone recognises it , if you know it share your knowledge to the world, it makes me feel happy to know it is recognisable. :D I do not own Sherlock or the song, I'm not giving anything away about it you can work it out for yourselves! Please enjoy and please, please, please review.**

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The Era of Holmes**

_Age 4: Bullies are mean_

It was coming up to Sherlock's last week at the nursery and things hadn't gone very smoothly for him. The child who goes by the name Jim Moriarty, had been a bully from the start of nursery, but he hadn't picked on Sherlock until now. It was easy to wind Sherlock up and scare him. Jim would usually wonder why he hadn't targeted him sooner. He would normally sit behind Sherlock and flick his ear, pull his clothes or push him about. Whenever it came to playtime and home time Sherlock would sit on a bench next to a wall and play with his magnifying glass, always looking at anything that caught his eye. One day Jim decided he wanted a go with the magnifying glass, Sherlock was investigating a ladybird on the floor when his noticed a shadow appear over him, it was small, so a person his age. Slowly he looked up to see Jim Moriarty looking wickedly at him, his small hands were balled into tiny fists.

"Gimmi!" Jim simply ordered. Sherlock just ignored him. "Din you hear me? I said gimmi!"

"No, why you wan it?" Sherlock was refusing to give up his prized possession to a bully.

"Because!"

"No!" Sherlock then sat up and turned away from Jim protecting the magnifying glass at all costs, but Jim wasn't having any of it.

"Fine!" He jumped on Sherlock's back and tried to grab for it but he was unsuccessful, Sherlock shoved him off he got up and he ran with Jim following closely behind. Sherlock didn't really know where he was running to and he soon hoped that he did because he ended up in a very bad spot. He was cornered. Trapped. This wasn't good news for him, and to make things worse Jim had finally appeared, the look on his face was evil and dark with anger.

"Gimmi it... now!"

"NO!" That was Sherlock's last chance and Jim jumped on him knocking him over, they both wrestled for the magnifying glass. Sherlock was desperate for him to not take it but his mission had failed. Jim standing tall held it above in the sky.

"You're gonna regwet that!" Jim punched Sherlock in the stomach knocking him over once again, but this time he fell he hit his head on the wall, hard. Sherlock wasn't unconscious but he felt paralysed. With one last finishing touch Jim knelt down, picked up Sherlock's arm and bit into the tender skin of the young boy. He screamed at the pain but Jim didn't stop until he could see blood. With a nod of the head Jim left the poor boy on his own, if no one found him soon he would bleed until he was unconscious and after that, most likely die.

XxXxXxXx

It was the end of the day when it happened and his grandfather came to pick him up, but Sherlock was missing. He had been gone for half an hour at least. His grandfather began to look for him, shouting his name as he went. If Sherlock wasn't in this state he would have shouted back, but he was just able to imagine it. Some staff came out looking for him as well, all shouting his name. Suddenly Sherlock saw a shadow cross him. He was still crying which caught the person's attention, it was a woman. She looked around and saw a fragile looking child huddled up against the wall covered in blood, this wasn't a good sign.

"He's over here! Someone call an ambulance! Hurry!" She slowly approached Sherlock and gently touched his Shoulder, he was shivering. "Sherlock can you hear me? Nod if you can hear me." He slowly nodded taking much care in not injuring himself even more. Sherlock's grandfather soon appeared and crouched down next to him. He was shocked at his state, the boy looked so fragile and innocent Sherlock was covered in blood.

"Who would do this to you?" He rubbed a tear away from his cheek, and then held his hand waiting for the ambulance to come. It took a few minutes for the ambulance to arrive, they helped Sherlock onto a stretcher, his grandfather never letting go of his hand.

XxXxXxXx

Two hours in the hospital and the whole of the family had arrived. Emily was sat by Sherlock's bed in a private room stroking his hair, Richard was standing in the doorway looking scared whereas Mycroft was leaning on the wall never taking his eyes off of his younger sibling, he was a teenager now and he felt responsible for anything that happened to his brother, his grandfather had a hand on Emily's shoulder constantly reminding her that 'he'll be alright'. It was hard to l but you could see tears falling down Emily's cheeks, she was so scared for him that she didn't know what to do whit herself.

"He'll be alright, love. You know it, he's got some Cartwright in him he'll pull through one hundred percent."

"I know dad." She was still in tears. "If it's not too much to ask could I be alone with him for a few minutes?"

"Course petal." Joe Cartwright gave her one last hug then walked out of the ward closely followed by Mycroft and Richard.

"Oh, Sherlock, who could have done this to you?" She began to hold his hand and he stirred, slowly opening his eyes.

"Mummy?"

"I'm here sweetheart, and I'm never letting you go." She squeezed his hand to symbolise what she meant.

"My head hurt."

"It will honey, it will. The pain will disappear though; all those miniature superheroes inside of you will be defeating the bad guys."

"I have superheroes inside of me?" Sherlock seemed surprised and excited at the same time.

"Yes you do, they're there to protect you and keep you safe when you have been hurt." She smiled at the thought, the mind of a child was so precious and delicate.

"I'm tired." His eyes were slowly dropping, but he wanted to keep awake for as long as possible. Emily slowly stroked his loose curls off of his forehead and out of his eyes, she began to sing to him.

_Baby mine don't you cry,_

_Baby mine dry your eyes,_

_Rest your head close to my heart,_

_never to part baby of mine._

_Little one when you play,_

_Don't you mind what they say,_

_Let those eyes sparkle and shine,_

_Never a tear baby of mine._

_From your head to your toes,_

_You're so sweet goodness knows,_

_You are so precious to me,_

_Cute as can be baby of mine._

And after she finished Sherlock was fast asleep. Emily looked up to see Richard standing in the doorway, he had a sad smile on his face.

"You always loved that film for its song, and you always sing it to him." He indicated Sherlock.

"It's the only way to get him to sleep, that or Mycroft reads him a story. I'm going to stay with him until he recovers; you go home if you want." Emily smiled as best she could at him, Richard come to her and kissed her then left, leaving his wife and youngest son in the quite room together.

XxXxXxXx

When Sherlock recovered they chose not to send him to a public school when he was old enough, he had private tutors from then on. This also stopped him from leaving the house at any time.

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**Thought I'd have Moriarty in this but sadly it will be the last of him... UNTIL LATER! :D I thank my friend for helping me out with a bit of the storyline. Don't forget to review, whoever does I will personally find where you live and give you a hug. Lol Don't worry I'm not that smart. Thanks for reading.**


	6. Age 5

**Hey, me again. Sorry for the long... long... long... delay but things kept happening. I got ill, my birthday came around, school, couldn't be bothered, forgot etc, etc... but here is the next chapter, it is written in first person which means the rest of the chapters will be. The writing is not completely like how a five year old would talk but it is a cross between happening then and Sherlock nowadays reliving the memory if you understand what I mean. I'm not exactly happy with this chapter but I've been DYING to get on to the next chapter. Things are going to get a bit scary for poor Sherlock in age six, just as a friendly warning. Please enjoy this chapter even though I'm not keen on it myself. Please review, you know I really appreciate it. But nothing to nasty that will make me cry. :D**

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**The Era of Holmes**

_Age 5: Worst day ever (...So far)_

Today I got to go out of the house for more than three hours! I've been waiting for this day to come for AGES! Mycroft thinks I'm weird for being excited about it, but I never get to go outside, it's not fair! He does, he always does, but not me... never me. Whenever I do go outside mummy or daddy are making sure I don't wander off too far, they also put up a _big_ fence around the house, it's too big for me to look over it, they say it's there to stop bad men from coming in. I don't believe them though; I think it's to keep me in. People call me weird; mummy always tells me I'm special but I know I'm different. I'm smart, I'm a quick learner, I might be five but I understand things, things kids my age wouldn't even be able to say. I'm going to the hospital now to visit grandad, I don't know why he in though. Mummy says he's ill, I hope he gets better soon... I miss him. It's just me and mummy today though, Mycroft has homework to do and daddy is busy with his job. I cling tightly to mummy's hand as we walk down the long white corridors. There're usually people dressed in white or blue outfits that wave to me, they scare me. We turn into a room and I see grandad lying in bed, he doesn't look too good... it frightens me.

"Dad?" Mummy sits down on a chair next to his bed, I feel myself lifted from the ground and sat on mummy's knee. She wraps her arms around me. "Look whose come to say hi." Grandad looks at me and smiles.

"Hey buddy, and how's my little genius?" He ruffled my hair slightly, his voice matches how he looks, I don't know if I want to answer but I know I have to.

"Good." I couldn't keep the sad sound out of my voice; grandad noticed it and had to say something.

"What's wrong, Sherlock?"

"Nuthin'. I just... I'm scared." I didn't want to make eye contact with him, I... I couldn't. I was too scared to.

"Something's troubling you kid. What is it?" I didn't want to say what I was thinking but my worry couldn't stop me.

"Grandad... are you goin' to die?" I needed to know and what he said hurt me so much.

"No, kiddo, I'm just fine." He was lying, I could see it clearly, but I kept quiet.

"Oh... good." I smiled, trying to look hopeful but even though I'm not. Mummy began to stroke my hair gently then she took me off her knee and onto the floor, I stood there looking at he and she gave me a book and coloured pencils.

"Colour some pictures in sweetheart." She stroked my cheek and smiled. I sat on the floor and began looking through the book mummy gave me. I heard grandad and mummy talking but I didn't really listen. "Why did you lie?"

"I can't exactly tell him... he's a child Em."

"Just because he is doesn't mean that you can tell lies."

"It'd break his lil' heart Em... I could never do that him. Not Sherlock." When I heard my name I began to listen in, as you would.

"I know... but he's smart, he'll work it out. He probably knows you were lying to him." She sounded hurt and upset, I wanted to go over to her, but I would only make things worse. "Dad?"

"Yes, petal?"

"How long do you have?"

"Less than a month." That was when I heard mummy begin to cry, mummy never cries, I want to know why she's crying but I can't ask, she'll tell me a lie as well.

"Please keep going, you can't miss Sherlock's sixth birthday, it's in a couple of weeks."

"I can only hope for the best, but it can be any day now."

"Don't say that! Is it definitely a..._ tumour_?" She whispered the last word, I couldn't hear it properly, but there was no reply, just a change of conversation.

"Look at him... he looks so pale. He's been in the house too long; you need to let him out more."

"Dad... I can't, not after what happened."

"What happened was long ago, it won't happen again Em and you know it."

"Please, dad, just understand me. It pains me to see him suffer inside the house all day and every day... but it's for his own safety."

"You worry far too much about him, he may be your youngest but don't get too protective or else you'll push Mycroft away and you won't get him back."

"Who are you to tell me what to do with my children?"

"No... Em I didn't-"

"NO DAD! No, I would give my life to ensure the safety of Mycroft and Sherlock and I would have no reason to live if I lost one of them. So DON'T tell me what to do!" At that moment a strange beeping noise got faster in the room, "Dad? DAD! I'm sorry dad, I didn't meant to do that! DAD?" I heard mummy shouting I looked up from my book for the first time and I took one look at grandad, he was laying still, the beep was now a long and flat noise. Something bad has happened, is he dead? This couldn't be happening! He wasn't answering mum... he's gone... GRANDAD! He left me! I stood up from the floor and began to run, I didn't know where to but I didn't care at the moment. I was running past all the people in the hospital not noticing the tears in my eyes or the ones rolling down my red cheeks even though the tears were blurring my vision. I stopped outside the door leading to the cleaner's room. I didn't even stop to think where I was going, I just ran into the room. Huddling my knees into my chest I quietly sobbed. He was my best friend. My only friend. He took me away from the world to a better place. And now... I'm alone. Slowly I cry myself to sleep and a few hours later a bright light shines in the room. My eyes don't want to open but I hear voices.

"Mrs Holmes, I've found him." I feel myself scooped up off of the floor and carried into the bright light. There's a person running towards me, I think it's my mummy.

"Sherlock!" I'm passed through the air to someone else and squeezed tightly. "Sherlock, oh, thank God! Thank you so much for helping me." I feel mummy carrying me somewhere. There is a freezing cold wind blowing in my face, we must be outside, my eyes still don't want to open fully. The wind stops suddenly as I'm sat on soft material and something buckled around me. My eyes finally open and I look at my surroundings. I'm in a car, our car and mummy is sat next to me, she looks sad.

"Home please, Jonathon."

"Course' Mrs Holmes." There was silence for a few minute when mummy without even looking at me began to speak.

"You shouldn't have run off Sherlock. That was very naughty of you."

"But-"

"No, Sherlock! You shouldn't have done it. You could have wandered out onto the streets and got hit by a car! How do you think that would make me feel, Sherlock? How?" She looked at me, but I was too scared to look back at her. A tear fell down my cheek and the mood changed. "Sherlock I'm sorry, it's just... today has been the worst day ever. I just want to go home." She was crying now, I had to ask, had to know.

"Is grandad... gone?" I looked at mummy; she smiled at me and just stroked my cheek.

"How do you like the sound of a film when we get home, eh?" Why can't mummy tell me the truth? I look away again and out of the window at all the passing shops and people. "Sherlock, do you want to watch a film?"

"Okay." I hear her sigh and we didn't talk again until we got home. Mummy sent me to my room as she talked to daddy and Mycroft. We never watched a film, I didn't really want to anyway. It's going to be had getting over this. Life is going to be boring now without grandad. Without my best friend.

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**Please ****review... :D**


	7. Age 6

**Heyy, me again! I've put this to T now, because I worry, if you think it should be M please let me know straight away. Sherlock's hell begins here. I am sorry for hurting you Sherlock, you know I love you really, but it's for my fanfic so I say it's ok. I have to listen to sad songs to get me in the mood to write sad things. I hope you like this chapter, the beginning bit I'm not so sure about but, hey... it's your opinion. Please don't hate me for hurting Sherlock and please review, thank you to all those that do review, I know I never mention you or write back but I've a bad memory for remembering to do so, and I really do appreciate it when you review your thoughts or opinions. Oh and no I don't own Sherlock, but I'm sure you all knew that anyway. :D**

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**The Era of Holmes**

_Age 6: After The funeral_

It was a tough day today. Seeing grandad buried in the ground. It was my birthday two days ago; it wasn't the best birthday without grandad. To be honest it had been the worst. I've locked myself in my room ever since, I've still got birthday presents to open, but I just want my grandad back, no amount of money or presents will fix that. Mummy has tried to get me out of my room, she'd leave breakfast, lunch and dinner outside my door, but I would hardly touch it. I'd sit on my window ledge looking at the sky and the cars on the road or I would read, there were other kids playing football, some would even try to call me down to play with them but I just moved away. I usually stay up most of the night and cry silent tears, most of the time I cry myself to sleep. The day of the funeral I decided to break free of my room. As soon as I stepped out Mycroft was walking past, he was carrying at least seven books which when he saw me dropped them all at once creating a loud bang and squeezed the life out of me with a hug. I was too shocked to hug Mycroft back. He held me close and began to talk.

"Sherlock, please don't do that to me again. I've been so worried about you." Another voice came from downstairs.

"Mycroft! What was that noise?" It was mummy, she was now on the landing with me and Mycroft, and as soon as she saw me she began to run. I felt more arms hugging me.

"Sherlock, please don't scare me like that again." I felt mummy kissing my forehead, why was everyone so worried about me? Everyone was here except father. He was always busy with work but ever since grandad died he seemed to be more... distant and he comes home later... a lot later. I'm never awake when daddy comes home but I usually smell some sort of alcohol in the morning. I don't know if I'm right, but I think daddy has a drinking problem. Mummy was still holding on to me, Mycroft had let go but was still standing in the hallway, until mummy spoke.

"Mycroft, get yourself dressed, we'll be leaving soon."

"Yes, mummy." Mycroft collected his books and left to his room.

"Sherlock... can you make it to the funeral?" I nodded to her. "Thank you, Sherlock. Your grandad will have wanted you to go."

"But he's dead, how could you know what he wanted?"

"It's just what people say Sherlock. Now we need to get you dressed." Mummy let go of me but then grabbed my hand and she took me back into my room. She helped me dress into my formal outfit. I feel like I'm drowning in my suit. When we arrived at the church I noticed there were at least a hundred people, who knew grandad was well known. When people noticed us they suddenly stopped talking and began to pay their respects by feeling sorry for us. I just held tightly to mummy's hand. Daddy wasn't here as expected. He said he would be, but he wasn't, he always lies and I hate that about him! Well, the funeral was at least an hour and a half. And there was no sign of daddy; mummy isn't going to be happy with him when we get back home. He wasn't at the party after the funeral, half way through mummy sent me home with Jonathon, I was quiet the whole journey home, Jonathon was trying to get me to talk but I was too upset. We finally arrived back at the house, Jonathon unlocked the door for me and I went straight to my room, he wouldn't leave me alone, I know he's only trying to help but I don't need anyone or anything at the moment. Just my room and silence to think. I look out of my window, it's still light. I'd love to go outside at night. I don't know what it's like; I've only looked at night from my bedroom window.

"Are you sure there's nothing I can get you, Sherlock? Nothing I can do for you?"

"No, thanks."

"Well, stay out of trouble, remember... I'm only a phone call away." Jonathon left my room closing my door. Mummy and Mycroft are going to be a while tonight; I've got the house all to myself. Not much I can do here though. I see Jonathon get in the car and drive off. Slowly the hours pass and I hadn't realised I had fallen asleep. I woke suddenly when I heard the front door shut. Mummy's back, I need to talk to someone. It's dark outside; I'd say roughly nine o'clock maybe ten. I run out of my room and down the stairs expecting to find mummy or Mycroft, but all I see is a man, daddy. He looks wobbly; maybe I should help him in some way.

"Daddy? Are you okay?" I hold my arms out and hold onto his hand, he looks down at me, his eyes look red. I back off slightly. He's never looked at me like this before. He looks angry, very angry.

"Why... you've got some nerve showing your face to me again!"

"What?" And that was when it happened. He raised his hand for the first time ever and backhanded me on the cheek. I fell backwards in fear and shock, falling to the floor with a loud thud; I landed on my side in an uncomfortable position.

"Get up." I didn't react, my hand was holding on to my bright red cheek. I wish I had moved though. "I said get... up... NOW!" He grabbed my ear and pulled me up that way, it hurt so much. He knelt down to my height. I was crying silently again, I had gotten used to it lately. He shook my shoulders violently because I wasn't paying attention, but the shake had now got me looking at him through my blurred vision.

"Now you listen here boy. If... if you ever... and I mean ever say anything to anyone about this, I will hit you again. Are... are we clear?" He kept slurring his words. I was too scared to answer, I felt myself shaken again. "ARE WE CLEAR?"

"_Yes, daddy._" I sobbed out the two words.

"Good, now... go to bed." I turned from him and felt myself fall to the floor again. Daddy just pushed me, what's wrong with him? I hit my nose really hard; I put my hand up to feel it. There's blood! I pick myself up off the wooden floor and run to my room never looking back, but I hear my father laughing at me. When I got to my room I couldn't stop the tears pouring from my eyes. Father hit me... he actually hit me. He's never hit me before. I don't like it... it hurt... I'm scared. I sit on my window ledge again looking at my reflection in the glass, blood is all over my face, I've got a bright red cheek and there are thousands of tears rolling down my face and dripping off of my chin. I hold my knees close to my chest and burry my head into my legs. When I ran through the door I didn't turn my light on. I'm hurt, in the dark... alone. I need a hug.

XxXxXxXx

2 Days later

_Dear Diary,  
__He hit me again today.  
__I'm scared.  
__I miss grandad.  
Help me.  
__SH._

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**Hey... what's this down here? Why it's a review button. Please use it, I love all that do. XD **


	8. Age 7

**What more can I say, I'm so sorry. It took me a long time to think of what to put. I'm not really happy with some of it, but I hope it is reasonably ok. The poem is mine an I might put a few more of my own poems up if they're good enough, but Sherlock is not mine and it never will be. Enjoy and please review. Thank you again to all those who reviewed the last chapter, you all made me smile. :) Please look out for my new story, I'm writing it with one of my best friends Lottexoxo, it's a Sherlock and Harry potter crossover, haven't worked out a title yet but it should be up this week, hopefully. Again, please review. :D**

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**The Era of Holmes**

_Age7: An interest in subjects_

_Unanswered Questions_

_Why me?  
__What did I do?  
__Why were you drunk that night?  
__Why did you hit me?  
__Why do you still?  
__Why did grandad have to leave?  
__Why don't you hit Mycroft?  
__Why weren't they there to save me?  
__Why, dad, why?_

Lately I've had to find new ways to take my mind off of daddy and his mean ways. I've found a hidden talent that I have. I love the violin. It's a beautiful instrument. Daddy doesn't like it though; he doesn't like anything I like. He hates me, I know it. I don't understand what I've done wrong though. Why does he hit me? What _did_ I do wrong? It's been a year and seventy-three days since he first hit me and he didn't stop there. Four times a week I get hit. One time mummy and Mycroft went away for a week and daddy gave me a black eye. I'm really scared of him now. I can't tell anyone, they won't believe me. I'm just a kid and no one listens to kids. I've also taken an interest in science. I do experiments with what things I can find. They're not very good experiments but it keeps me busy and my mind off daddy. Today at about three o'clock I was sitting on my window ledge again holding onto my new violin. I looked down at the street and saw a girl, my age with blonde straight hair, she was staring at me, but as soon as she saw me look at her though she ran off. It was weird, but so is my life. I've never seen her before. For some reason she got my attention, it was unusual for me to have an interest in someone new, especially a girl... but why did she run off? I put my attention back to my violin and began plucking at random strings. I was fed up of doing nothing all day or doing rubbish experiments like mixing different drinks together or any other weird liquids. An idea popped into my head, Mycroft has a science set in his room, he never uses it and I'm on my own in the house at the moment. I could easily get it. I literally jumped off of the window ledge and ran to Mycroft's room. I tried the door. Locked! He always locks his door; I don't think he trusts anyone. But lucky for me I've begun to read more books, one of them was about lock picking. I will get in his room whether he likes it or not. All I needed was a paper clip and I was in. It took me at least five minutes to get in because I'm still a learner in the topic. Opening the door I found a very big room that was spotless, nothing like my room at all. A double bed, just like me, but his was used and mine was not. I found some goggles and gloves lying around, just to be safe I put them on. (This was, after all, my first time in using chemicals). Of course being the usual curious and naive child I am, I picked out a random metal, I think it was an alkaline metal so I needed some water. I ran into Mycroft's bathroom, it was MASSIVE! Clean and white, again, nothing at all like mine. I got a glass of water and ran back to his room, as fast as I could without spilling it. I laid the cup down on the desk and placed the metal into the water. I waited a few seconds, staring at the cup with anticipation. That was when the worst had happened. Mummy, Mycroft and Daddy had returned and the experiment, well... happened. Mycroft's desk exploded, filling the room with smoke. Silence. There was nothing but white smoke and silence. Muffled voices were coming from outside the door. I hadn't realised though that I was lying down, sprawled on the floor. My head hurt, I felt myself being picked up, there was someone there, but my vision was blurred as well. The person was stroking my cheek, carefully but with emergency.

"_Shrghlogh._" The voice was distorted; I still couldn't tell who it was. But my senses were starting to come back to me. "_Sherghloghk, ca you her me?_" it was a woman's voice. Mummy! I could see her now and hear her voice, her sweet, calm, soothing voice. "Sherlock, can you hear me, sweetheart?"

"Mu... mummy?"

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY BLOODY ROOM?" Mycroft was here. But I never heard daddy talk.

"Yes, Sherlock, it's mummy. Mummy is here."

"MY CHEMISTRY SET!"

"Mycroft! Stop complaining and come over here and help your brother!" I could see the room now, the walls next to the desk were darkened with soot. The desk was... well there was not much of a desk now. I'm in deep trouble when I'm back to my normal self.

"Mummy, my head hurts."

"Well it will do you stupid child!" Mycroft took over from mummy. "THAT IS THE REASON I LOCK MY DOOR! HOW CAN I KEEP YOU SAFE IF YOU DO THINGS LIKE THIS?" I couldn't help it; tears began rolling down my cheek from my eyes.

"MYCROFT, THAT'S ENOUGH!" It was daddy who shouted. "Sherlock, come with me, let's get you cleaned p, you can apologise when you're in a fitter state." I didn't leave mummy's arms even though she forced me to my feet. He didn't want to help me; he was only going to make things worse. I had to go though; otherwise he would hit me twice as hard tonight.

Daddy held my hand very tightly; this wasn't going to go down well. We got to the first floor, but we didn't stop, there was another set of stairs going down. We got to the bottom of them; there was a door, obviously locked.

"You stand there and you don't move. If you run away, cry or even talk when not asked to, you will certainly regret it! Have I made myself clear?" I nodded to him, not daring to say one word. He unlocked the door and roughly grabbed my arm, pulling me in until I fell to the floor. I tried to get up but he slapped my cheek making me fall to the floor once again. What is this place he has sent me to? I've never been here before and I had a gut instinct this wouldn't be the only time I would spend here. He pulled my hair and spoke to me in a cruel way.

"If you ever do anything like that again you will return here. I'm giving you the rest of the day to think about what you have done." With one last beat he threw my head to the floor causing me to bump my head, I was prepared for the worst and found a way to avoid more pain. He left me in the dark, cold room, with no blanket, no light and no hope of getting out. I waited for daddy to come back, so I could run and hide in my room, in hope that he wouldn't come looking for me. Judging by the footsteps outside it must have been time to come out. I fell asleep unknowingly, but the footsteps woke me up. I quickly stood up as the lock was being turned. Daddy walked in, but he looked calm.

"Have you thought about what you did wrong?"

"Yes, daddy." I nodded as well.

"ENOUGH OF THIS DADDY CRAP! GROW UP!" I began to cry again, I looked away from him; I couldn't let him see me cry, I was told not to after all. It was too late though, but the weirdest thing happened. I felt a warm feeling around me, he was hugging me. "Don't cry, but it was naughty what you did. You need to grow up, Sherlock. Stop being a _stupid _child! Go to your room." He let me go and I ran away from him. No one else was in the house, like usual. I sat on the window ledge once more, it was the afternoon, but when I was put in that horrible place it was coming up to night, I have been in there for a whole day! I don't understand what I have done wrong. Alone again. So alone...

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	9. Age 8

**Hello, I would have uploaded this on Thursday but my laptop did something stupid! Also I have sort of put in a Sweeney Todd quote in, see if you can find it. Hope you like this chapter, I can't remember what it is about. (Lol) Enjoy and please review.**

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The Era of Holmes**

_Age8: Hurtful words_

There was a knock at my door. I turned my head to face the door and I see Mycroft walking in. He looks worried. I look away and out of the window again.

"Sherlock? Mummy sent me to see if you need anything, lunch, a drink, maybe the company?" I continued looking out of the window and plucking strings on my violin I got last year. "Sherlock, please, you're scaring us. We care for you and we just want you back. Can you do that?" I heard the floorboards creaking and then Mycroft sat on the other end of my window ledge. "Where's the old Sherlock?"

"Gone." I manage one word even that was quiet. I realised I was crying, I couldn't let Mycroft see.

"Gone, what do you mean gone?"

"I mean gone, what else do you think I would mean?"

"Will you come downstairs; I've got some important news?" I needed to get rid of the tears first before I went anywhere. I nodded slowly. "Thank you. The main hall, please Sherlock." And with that he left my room closing my door behind him. It took me a few minutes to get rid of the tears. I couldn't be bothered going downstairs but I knew everyone would be waiting for me, so I had to go. I never mentioned but when father and I are around other people he's nice to me. He's such a liar! I hate him, but I don't want to hate him. I'm so confused. I get up off of the window ledge and gently put my violin on my double bed, which I never sleep in by the way; I'm always on my window ledge. When I walked down the stairs I heard voices, as soon as I was seen though they stopped the noise. I got to the main hall and sat down in a leather armchair, everyone was watching me. It must be important news, even Jonathon was here and the maid, Charlotte. I've never mentioned her but she's been working for us for three years now. I don't really see her much and to be honest I'm quite glad... she's creepy. I don't like her. Mummy looked upset, but she was smiling. Mycroft came up to me slowly.

"Sherlock... I don't know how to tell you this, but... I'm going away for a while, a few years to be precise."

"You're leaving me?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing, the only person I would have a chance of talking to was leaving me. He was only seventeen as well, it couldn't be university. What was he getting into?

"Not leaving... just not being around-"

"Yeah, I get it!" I'd heard enough, I jumped out of the armchair and walked away.

"Sherlock... Sherlock, please!" Mycroft was begging for me to go back. I was having none of it. Walking up the stairs I heard footsteps running after me and my arm was swept back to turn me around aswell. I looked at the person who had stopped me, it was Mycroft.

"What?"

"Sherlock, give me a chance to explain myself."

"NO!" He was still holding onto my arm and wouldn't let go.

"Sherlock! I can't stay here forever, I have got a life of my own."

"But I need you." He held my other arm now and crouched to my level.

"What could you possibly need me for?" I sighed and lost his eye contact. My anger was now gone, only to be replaced with hurt and fear. This was it; I was going to tell Mycroft about father. I know it was a crazy idea but I didn't want him to leave and I knew he would save me from it getting any further. Or would he think me stupid? Probably, but I _have _to tell someone! I don't feel safe in the one place I should... home.

"Mycroft, there's something I never told you about father-"

"Whatever happened to daddy? I think you're trying to grow up to quickly." He let go of me and was now standing properly.

"That's not the point. Father... well he-" Mycroft looked at his watch.

"Sherlock, I'm so sorry, I have to dash. Look, I'll call you as soon as I arrive."

"LISTEN TO ME!" Bad move, Sherlock, very bad.

"What is with all this noise?" Father was here now, no way was I going to get a word in now.

"Mycroft, your car is ready."

"Good luck, Mycroft. When you get famous make sure you mention me." Jonathon was now joining the conversation.

"And me." Charlotte as well. Everyone was talking at once; which made it easy enough for me to slip out from the crowd. I proceeded to my room and made a choice to not come out. The only person who could have saved me from this mess that I am in is... is leaving me behind. All of my childhood dreams have now vanished. What's the point in having dreams? They never come true. I should know; I've had so many in the past, all to be crushed by my father. I never have dreams now, only nightmares. Sometimes when I'm asleep. Most of the time when I'm awake. Now that Mycroft is gone... who will save me now?

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	10. Age 9 Part 1

**Hello! Me again, I hope this chapter is okay for you, I think it's alright but that's my opinion. Please review and feed me your thoughts because I'm _hungry_! :D Lol (I've been watching Russell Howard tehe) Again enjoy and review, I love all people who do! xXx**

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**The Era of Holmes**

_Age 9: Boring tutors_

Another day has gone by without Mycroft, every day feels that little bit worse and every day is the same. I would play the violin, create an experiment, sit around doing nothing, read a book or two, have a bit of dinner and then at the end of the day father would hit me. Same old story every day of my life, nothing ever changes. Until today, I saw that girl again that I noticed two years ago. She was covered in dirt and her clothes were ruffled. She looked like she had just come off of the streets. I stood up on my window ledge and opened the window to talk to her, she even came closer to talk to me but looked to her left sharply and ran in the opposite direction like there was no tomorrow. I shut my window again and sat back down, I felt... disappointed in a way. It has been years since I last spoke to a person my age, it's always mother's party guests or father's business partners, never children my age... I miss that. I miss being able to have a decent conversation with someone my age, not men who are forty years older than me. Although they do talk more sophisticated than children my age, but they talk to me like a child and that _winds _me up! Lately I've been realising that I have become more stubborn, I believe it's because I'm always indoors. I'm still never allowed out, especially at night, usually if the sun is anywhere near the horizon I have to come straight back inside. I know I've said this before but I would give everything up just to feel the cold night breeze against my skin, to look up at the stars and feel cold for once in my life. But that will never happen, I bet even when I'm an adult I won't be allowed to do a lot of things an adult can do. Today I was supposed to be getting yet another private tutor; I've already been through three at least. Apparently they said that they couldn't handle me, I was too much of a challenge. I hardly thought so, I was just doing what any other child would do... excluding the fact that I have more intellectual capacity than others do my age. The new tutor was arriving in a few minutes and mother had made sure I looked presentable. His name was Thomas Harrison, even his name sounds too posh for my liking. He won't last a whole day; this should be nice and easy. Mother had dressed me up smart, I hate looking smart. I slowly wandered downstairs and the first person I saw was my father. He gave me a look that I can only describe as pure hatred. I quickly lost his eye contact and went to sit down on a settee as quickly and quietly as possible. Mycroft was gone, I had no idea where but mother said she would tell me when I'm old enough to understand and mother was... I don't know where mother was actually but I knew she wasn't close by. There was an awkward silence in the air, but of course father got up from his chair and knelt down in front of me he broke the silence in a cruel and harsh tone.

"Listen to me you little shit! You are going to behave yourself today and if you don't there will be consequences... you know what to expect." Just at that moment mother walked through the door, father smiled and ruffled my hair in a cheery way. "That's my boy."

"What are you two talking about? She was smiling completely oblivious to what was going on inside my father's mind.

"Oh, nothing, just a friendly father and son chat, isn't that right, Sherlock?" I nodded; I hated lying to mother but what else could I say if I disagreed with him? A car had pulled up outside the house and mother walked over to the door.

"Mr. Harrison is here." She opened the door to let him in, I had to stand up and have my hands in front of me to look presentable. Mother always gives them a tour of the house I have seen this happen many times. It gets quite old and boring after a while. Thomas Harrison walked up to me he was smiling at me as if I was child.

"Hello, there. So this is little Sherlock?" I couldn't help myself; I rolled my eyes and sighed.

"Yes, this is my little baby boy, the youngest of the Holmes family." She was now standing next to me with her hand on my shoulder. "Come please; let us give you a tour." Mother held my hand throughout the whole of the tour; she never wanted to let me out of her sight. I had witnessed this tour too many times and I knew what my mother was going to say word by word. The tour had finished an hour later our house was that big. Thomas Harrison turned to me and began to talk in a child like voice.

"So then, Sherlock, are you ready to do some learning?"

"I suppose so, Mr. Harrison."

"Sherlock, let's use first names in this. Please call me Thomas, but I suppose I can let you off you can call me Tom." My first assumptions of this man were that he was going to be posh and stuck up just like the others. But he's different, in a good way, he's been casual with me and he didn't sit me down straight away and start doing work when I don't want to. I might give him a chance but really it all depends on how I feel throughout the week. We both sat down in the dining room at the table. He had no papers with him or a briefcase, what sort of lessons were I going to get, outdoor nature ones? I was about to find out.

"You know what. Why don't we just have a relaxing day and get to know each other better? How's that sound?"

"Okay, I guess."

"Great, well... as you know my name is Thomas Harrison and I come from a highly recommended tutoring service." Something isn't quite right with this person now that I think about it.

"Who by?" I had to ask.

"What do you mean?" Thomas shifted nervously in his seat.

"Who recommended your tutoring service? I wasn't told."

"Oh... well... your mother's friend."

"Which one?"

"Do we have to go into detail?" He was beginning to look flustered. I was enjoying this now.

"I'd like to know, after all, you wanted us to get to know each other better." I smiled at him and he loosened his tie around his neck slightly and was trying to get some cool air into his shirt. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Excuse me; I need to go to the toilet." He ran off in the direction of the downstairs bathroom. I was chuckling to myself internally. I got up from my seat and began to follow where he went to; he wasn't a tutor at all. I was going to find out just who he was and what he was doing in our house. I knocked on the bathroom door, but no one answered. I walked in but there was nobody there. I could hear rustling in the next room.

"Father's study!" I whispered out loud. I ran next door and saw Thomas searching through files, there were hundreds of papers on the floor all messed up. "What are you doing?"

"SHERLOCK!" Mother ran into the study with an older man behind her. I turned to face her and felt myself being grabbed from behind and a knife pressed to my neck.

"Come any closer and I _will _hurt him!"

**...TBC...**

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**YES! I've never felt so evil in my life! Muhahaha I really have to stop getting carried away with myself. :D Apologies to all of those reviewers who had their fingers bitten off by the review button, I've told it off and it promises never to do it again so you don't have to be afraid anymore. xXx**


	11. Age 9 Part 2

**Hello, I would have uploaded this sooner if fanfiction wasn't playing up on me, here is the next chapter. Please sit back, relax and read the fanfic... Also don't forget to review. :D **

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**The Era of Holmes**

_Emily Holmes' POV_

"Sherlock and his tutor seem to be getting on quite nicely, don't you think Richard?"

"Quite nicely, darling... this one seems to have done something right, he hasn't left yet." Richard laughed.

"Don't over exaggerate Richard it's not good." We were both in the living room and the television was on, Richard did like his daily news. Personally I have never been a big fan of the news area but something caught my attention.

"_A man going by the name of Cory Dunstan has been accused of many robberies, sexual assault, kidnapping and murder. He is a devious con man and very detailed in disguises. He has disguised himself as many job professions, from the information we have gathered his most common is a pri-" _The channel changed over.

"Boring!" Richard announced out loud.

"Richard, I was listening to that." He gave me an apologetic look, how could I resist that look?

"I'm sorry, honey, I thought-"

"It's okay." The doorbell went off, I wasn't expecting anyone, and I don't think Richard was either. I got up to answer it and a man stood there holding a brief case, he was wearing glasses and had silver hair put in a comb over.

"Hello, can I help you?"

"Hello, is this the Holmes residence?" He sounded rather posh, but who am I to talk?

"Yes, it is. Can I be of any assistance?"

"My name is Thomas Harrison; I'm the tutor you hired for... Sherlock... is it?" This confused me, I must have been going mad.

"I'm sorry, did you say Thomas Harrison?" He looked at me questioningly.

"Yes, that is what I said. Your friend Alice Walker recommended me to you." He's right, but then who is in my house with my little boy? Richard came to me holding a paper.

"Sorry about the television situation but I've found the article in the news paper." I took it off of him and began to scan through the paper. _Cory Dunstan... robberies, sexual assault, kidnapping and murder... disguised himself as many job professions... his most common disguise is a private tutor- _**Private tutor! **Oh my god! Sherlock! I threw the paper to the floor and ran to the dining room, there was nobody there.

"Sherlock?" I turned to the door and only just spotted him wandering into Richard's study. I again ran to him, I could hear his voice.

"What are you doing?"

"SHERLOCK!" I ran into the study with the real Thomas Harrison close behind me, he must have been wondering what I was doing. Then the worst happened. That _monster _grabbed my baby and began threatening to cut his throat open; god knows where he got the knife from.

"Come any closer and I _will _hurt him!"

XxXxXx

Sherlock's POV

"Please, Cory, put the knife down." Mother held out her hands as a sign to show that she was no threat to him. "Please... let him go, he's only a boy, he has done you no harm."

"He came snooping around. What kind of a sick person comes looking for you when you say you need the toilet?"

"You were acting really suspicious, I knew as soon as you began introducing yourself." I felt the knife digging further into my neck.

"Please! Stop hurting him!" There must be blood showing. Wait! Let's just stop for a moment. I'm a kid, nine years old. What am I doing in a situation like this? I shouldn't be here, I should be learning my violin, creating new experiments having proper tutor lessons. Not being here and held at knife point by a maniac! Going back to reality I have to say I was terrified, out of my mind scared. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck as he spoke.

"Now then, we are going to walk out of here in a nice and calm way. Any fuss and this goes right through your windpipe." We began to move slowly towards mother and the other man. When we got to the door he turned around.

"If you follow me I will kill him, if you ring the police I will kill him. Do I make myself clear?"

"Please let him-"

"If you say go, I will kill him!" I could feel the blood now, trickling down my neck. "You have a beautiful house I might say. You should be hearing from me soon. Don't worry abou-" A gunshot, mother screamed. The grip on my arm and neck were released. I didn't think about what had happened right away, I just wanted my mother. I just ran to her and she held me tightly in her arms and stroked my hair.

"It's okay, Sherlock, you're safe now." I couldn't help it, tears began pouring down my cheeks. Mother must have looked up because I heard her talking to father.

"Richard? Wher- where did you get that gun from?" Father shot that lunatic? For _me_? Why did he do that to me if he hates me?

"There's always one lying around the house somewhere." I could hear footsteps coming closer to me another person was hugging me. "Sherlock, I'm glad you're safe. We'll have to get that wound seen to."

"My god! I think the man's dead!" It was that older man who spoke. Oh! He must be the real Thomas Harrison.

"I was protecting my family, anyone would do it!" I for some reason became very scared when my father raised his voice, mother thought I was just having a flashback to the situation I had just been in. But I had developed a certain type of fear towards father, oh my god! I'm scared of him! I'm more scared of him than I was when facing death just now.

"Mr. Harrison, I'm so sorry. Now's not the good time but if you're still up to it will you be able to return tomorrow?" I mother and father let me go so I could look at the other the real Thomas Harrison. He seemed completely out of his comfort zone but still managed to look stuck up and confident.

"If it's going to be like this every day then I'm sorry I have to refuse."

"It's never like this. This is... I don't know what this is, just an incredibly unlucky day for us. It won't be like this ever again." She was desperate for him to stay and give our family a chance.

"Very well, I'll be here same time tomorrow." And he just left, he seemed rather odd, I wasn't going to like him and I knew it.

"We should really call the police."

"Already done." There was a loud bang on the door and father ran to it. He explained everything to the police and mother had called an ambulance as well. Cory was still alive and he was rushed off to the hospital under surveillance by the police. I had been checked out, there was not much blood loss and the wound wasn't deep so I had been told. Although I have to walk around with a huge bandage on my neck for the next few days, the doctors say that there will be no scar but I can't be so sure. I'm sure all of these bad things happen to me for a reason, now it's very rare I get to leave the house. Mother is too over protective of me. I bet if I hadn't been the youngest this much protection would not have been forced upon me. Even though I had one hell of a day today, father still hit me at night. He was becoming more and more crazed about my pain, he even pressed a hand to my wound and everytime I yelped in pain he would hit me around the head. My life sucks! I just wish I had someone to talk to about my fears, my father, just someone to keep me happy. It's not a lot I'm asking for, I just want a friend.


	12. Age 10

**Hi, late update but I just had to finish this, I'm sorry if I do anything to offend any Americans, I don't think I will though, but I am from good old England. P****lease enjoy and review, you know I love your thoughts. :D**

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**The Era of Holmes**

_Age 10: The Girl From Outside_

The other day I saw that girl once again, she keeps turning up outside my house and I have no idea why. I've tried to talk to her hundreds of times but something always interrupted us. I was hoping to see her again today and I was ready to talk properly to her. I really needed to talk to someone I've only got my parents and one of them doesn't care about me. I was sat on my window ledge waiting to see the girl with the Blonde hair again. Mother had gone out shopping with her friends today leaving me alone with father; Charlotte had gone shopping as well, so like I said, all alone... again. I could see the other children playing outside with a football, they usually come out and play every other day, but who I was looking for, was not there. I scanned the area outside but saw nothing. After four hours I decided to give up, she wasn't coming. I jumped down from the window ledge and lay on the floor. I've never slept on my bed; it's either the window ledge or the rug on the floor. My eyes began to close slowly, but snapped open when I heard a tap at the window. I leapt up from the floor and ran to the window, she was there! Without any hesitation I opened the widow and she began to walk towards me.

"Hi there." Her accent, it wasn't British. I felt like I lost my voice, I couldn't speak, I didn't know what to say. "Aren't you gonna' talk to me?"

"I- I... Hello." That's all you can say? Hello? Of course it is, because that's what you say when you first talk to someone- shut up talking! I was arguing with myself so much I didn't see her disappear, when I saw she had gone a feeling of depression came over me. I walked away from the window ledge and a voice made me jump.

"You're not much of a talker." I turned around again and she was there... at my window... what do I do? How did she even get up there? "You gonna' let me in or what?" Again without saying anything I opened my window the full way. She climbed into my room. She looked around in amazement. "Wow! Your place is _huge_! And it's clean. OH MY GOD! Your bed is the size of an island!" She jumped on the bed bouncing as she sprung back up. "I want to see more!" She began to run to the door, NO! I had to stop her! I grabbed her wrist.

"Please don't!"

"What? Why?"

"Please... just... don't. I don't want my parents to find out I let you in." I let her wrist go and she gave me a quizzical look but moved away from the door and sat on my bed and crossed her legs, he shoes were covered with mud which had gone all over my white bed sheets, my father is going to kill me! How can I explain this mess? It's all over my carpet as well.

"At least you have parents. My mom died when I was born and my dad being the jerk he is ran off three years ago, leaving me to look after myself."

"But you're only, what, ten?" She couldn't have lived like that for three years, with no adult supervision.

"Oh, come on. I've been surviving before I was ten, it's not that hard. I bet you can't beat my parents." Did she think this was some kind of competition? Whose parents are worse than whose? "Well come on, spill the beans." I stayed silent. "I know something happens here, I can hear crying and screaming in this house sometimes. I know I might be jumping to conclusions but what's going on here?" She came on a night? That I never knew.

"Nothing happens here. I've just got... anger issues." She looked suspicious, she knew I was hiding something.

"So, what's your name kiddo?" She was trying to act like an adult, she wanted to be older, and if she has lived on her own for so many years looking after herself I'm not surprised she's trying to grow up faster.

"My name's-"

"SHERLOCK! WHERE ARE YOU, YOU LITTLE GIT?" Father was coming, oh no! She couldn't be seen here!

"You have to leave! NOW!"

"What? Why?"

"_Please!_ Before he find you here!" I tried to get rid of the mud on the floor as best as I could and I sat down on my bed covering up the mud marks on there.

"Does he hurt you?"

"Please go!"

"What's your full name?"

"Sherlock Holmes, now please leave, he's nearly here, and he sounds drunk."

"I'll return Sherlock, you can count on me." And with that she left out of the window. I quickly shut it behind her and practically jumped on my bed as the door began to open. His shirt was crumpled and untidy, he looked rough, he's drunk a whole bottle of Scotch by the looks of it, this wasn't good.

"Yes, father?"

"Are you being cocky with me?"

"No-"

"Because if you are! YOU ARE AREN'T YOU!" I was in deep trouble now.

"No father, I wasn-" A slap to the cheek silenced me and then a punch to the ribs.

XxXxXxXx

I woke up the next morning aching all over from the new bruises, why did he have to hit me? I had done nothing to hurt him yet he turns against me for no reason at all. I woke on the window ledge as usual and found a note outside. I opened to window and retrieved the letter. Girls handwriting, it must be her from yesterday. I unfolded it to find three words that shook the very depths of my soul.

"_I saw everything."_

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**So who is this girl? You'll find out soon if you don't work it out but I'm sure you all know who she is. Don't forget to review, I send my love to those who do, not to creep you out or anything. Lol**


	13. Age 11

**Hello! This took forever to write because it was the same length as 5 word document pages! And I didn't have enough motivation, but it's here now! Please read, enjoy and review. :D  
Warnings: A paedophile and one use of VERY strong language. **

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**The Era of Holmes**

_Age 11: Help me to sleep_

My life is made of chaos. Especially when it comes to education, I've mentioned bit's in the past like private tutoring, well before that was home tutoring from my mother, I know I never mentioned it but it wasn't important at the time, I had other things on my mind. Before home tutoring my mother told me I went to a public school, only for a year though, something had happened but I wasn't told what. Now I'm in a private school which really isn't fun, it's an all boy's school as well which makes things worse. As I have turned eleven I'm now in high school. The day had ended with P.E. The worst lesson ever created. In the changing rooms I always have to wear a vest not to show any of my bruises or scratches and because of that the other students call me names. I don't choose to be the odd one out; it's just how it has happened for me... even at home. Mother was out at the doctors today and Jonathan had taken her so Father was going to pick me up. I had been standing in the school grounds for about half an hour by now and everyone in the school had gone. I realised that no one was coming for me so I began to walk home, my house was a fifteen minute walk from school, I know this because it's not the first time I've walked home when my dad was supposed to pick me up. As I was walking through into an open field where tractors could drive I felt a presence of another person near me, sounds stupid but there was the faint smell of petrol in the area and it wasn't a tractor, there wasn't not enough noise for something that big. I looked around but nothing was there, a road was next to the field, I couldn't see anything but I knew someone was there. I picked up the pace and continued straight ahead. I came to the end of the field and I was in a little village, five minutes had passed since I left school, if only I could get home quicker. Even though there was a village nobody was around. I carried on as though I suspected nothing, and then I heard it. A car, most likely the one that I could smell as I heard it slow down. Just so it could get my attention they honked their horn and began to call me.

"Sherlock! Sherlock wait up!" I didn't recognise the voice and how did he even know my name? Something wasn't quite right. I still walked on ahead. He eventually caught up to me and was panting as though he had been running thinking it would make me laugh. "Whoa! Slow down there tiger!" I had to stop walking, the man had short brown hair and looked rather on the chubby side, I'm not surprised he got tired out even whilst driving, he was grinning at me. "Your dad asked me to pick you up." Strange that my dad would do something like that and I still don't recognise this person... but then again I don't know many of my father's friends except Marcus Johnston, I remember that night like it was only yesterday. Mother was visiting Mycroft wherever he was and Father had been working late, he needed to bring his work home with him, only he couldn't work alone so he brought his colleague, Marcus, home as well. I was nine, this was before the whole private tutor incident, and I was sitting downstairs reading a book, Stephen King's 'The Shining', I've read it many times before and not once has it scared me yet. I did nothing to provoke my father or his friend when they arrived, the two just waltzed in here drunk and began insulting me, and the worst thing was my father didn't even start the insults.

"So this is the little shit you've been talking about, is it?" They both laughed at his remark, father had obviously been talking about me at his workplace with all of his stuck up chums, spreading lies about me. "You should be glad you have a home and a loving family, if it hadn't have been for them you wouldn't be here today."

"I'd rather that have happened." I didn't realise it had slipped out; it was too late before I could do anything to change what had been said.

"Why you ungrateful little git!" Father was angry now; he grabbed my shirt collar and hoisted me up and out of the chair. "I'd love to know what your mother thinks of your comment." He wouldn't say anything would he?

"No! Please don't tell her! Please!"

"Oh... oh now you beg and plead you don't when I do this though do you?" He grabbed my arm and began to twist it around my back, tears were now streaming down my face and I couldn't help letting out a small cry due to the pain, it felt like my arm was about to snap at any second.

"Hey, hey! Take it easy! He's just a kid! Jeez, what is wrong with you?" Father must have acknowledged what Marcus said because I felt the strain on my arm relax but he pushed me to the floor, I just ran, I could hear them laughing together, he must have found that funny but not the almost snapping my arm In two funny.

That day was horrible, it made me realise that father had been lying about me to his friends so they will dislike me as well as him. So if this man really was my father's friend he would not have a very good opinion of me, but he has so far been sounding very pleasant. I really feel something is very wrong here, but I don't know what it is, all of my senses are telling me to run away and scream for help... but I don't know why.

"Well are you going to get in the car?" I shook my head at his question.

"No thank you, I'll be fine walking home, I've done it before."

"I know you have." The man gave me a sinister look, even his voice was full of dark secrets, he cleared his throat in sudden realisation of what and how he just spoke. "Your dad, he told me." I had to get out of here! How could I not notice what this person was? I needed to buy my way out without anything bad happening.

"Well, I don't need a lift; I trust he told you that I've gotten home safe before and that is what I plan on doing today, goodbye." Yes! I did it, nice and easy. I couldn't hear the engine so I continued walking. He didn't even know wha- My thoughts were cut off by my arm being yanked around, I was now looking up to the man, and this was very bad.

"We are getting in that car and I'm going to drive with no disturbance from you, ok?"

"Let go of me." His grip on my arm became tighter as I struggled. "I said let go!"

"Ah, ah, ahh. Come along, Sherlock." He began to drag me to the car, I started kicking and screaming but he was now holding both my arms down and covering my mouth with his hand. I was trapped. What was he going to do with me? I'll be dead by next week. I couldn't help it; I was so scared I began to cry. Why was there nobody in the village? Surely someone must have heard all of the fuss. "Will you stop struggling?" After a minute of struggling he reached the car, this is it, I saw that the windows were tinted; I'll never be seen again. That's what I thought until I heard another voice.

"Unhand that boy NOW!" I felt the grip on me slacken and I was pushed away as the man was pressed up against his car now, having handcuffs put on him. He looked at me with that wicked smile and winked, I felt violated. The voice from before came again. "Sherlock!" I recognised it, turning to see who it was my eyes rested upon the one person I had never been happier to see in my life.

"Mycroft!" I ran to him and he crouched down so I could cling onto his freshly dry-cleaned grey suit for dear life, I had never been so glad to see Mycroft, not ever since he left me. He wrapped his arms around me and began stroking my curly hair. The tears were pouring down my face now and onto his suit jacket, staining it a dark grey colour.

"Dear little brother. Are you alright?" I nodded, my head still buried into his neck. Mycroft's voice was quite soothing when he spoke to me. "Shhh... It's alright, you're safe now." If only he knew about father, then he would think differently. "How on earth did it come to this in the first place, I thought you were getting picked up from school."

"I... I..."

"Shh... calm down. It's alright, I'm here and he won't hurt you again, now who was supposed to be picking you up?" He removed me from his warm comfort and held both of my shoulders so I could look him, more or less, in the eyes. Even though he told me to calm down I still could not control my breathing.

"It was... it was father." He gave me a blank look.

"But... but father would never do anything like that." He stood up and began to think for a while before he spoke again. "Wait here, and look after him." He turned to one of his men and they nodded. Mycroft walked over to the man who tried to kidnap me, he walked with purpose and rage, the man was still staring at me and smiling in that sadistic way that really frightened me. I took me all of my brainwork to just hear what they were saying.

"So... who are you then?" The man was very casual; he wouldn't be in a minute though.

"Who am I? That boy over there, you sick paedophile, is my little brother." Mycroft was pointing at me when he said that. "Now listen to me when I say this. When you get out of jail, go and tell your sick twisted friends that this boy is protected, not only by me but the whole of England! I hope you enjoy your time in prison, I've heard the inmates are lovely. Get him out of my sight!" He literally spat the words out of his mouth as the man was put into a car and driven off. Mycroft walked back over to me and put his hand on my back in a comforting way, I didn't want the hand I wanted a hug. I grabbed onto him in a tight hug. He must have been shocked for a few seconds as he didn't seem to know what to do, instead he wrapped his arms around me once more.

"...Thank you..." Was all I could think of at the time.

"It's not a problem my baby brother." It's like he always said baby or little brother to make him feel secure that he was the one in control, it always annoyed me. We began walking to his car. But something in my brain just clicked then about what just happened.

"Mycroft?" I began to get into the car

"Yes, Sherlock?"

"How did you know where I was?" We were both sat down in the car by now. Mycroft pondered at the question as to how he can answer it or what he can say that will not make me suspicious, I suspect him of following me as it is though. He finally looked at me, he had an answer... more like a lie.

"I was just driving past and I happened to spot someone in trouble only to find out it was you." It took him at least five minutes to come up with that? Mycroft was losing his touch with his way of words. I didn't reply to Mycroft's answer, we just sat in silence the rest of the way home, I could sense Mycroft becoming ever angrier every second closer to home, and this didn't really comfort my emotions and fears of how father might react. I saw our lonely house sat upon that small hill, above the semi-detached houses that were still visible from up at the top. The car pulled into the driveway and as soon as it stopped Mycroft got out. I was about to get out as well when the door opened for me. I looked up to see the driver standing to attention holding the door; I didn't like this authority over people, not at this age. You see, Jonathan, our Chauffer, he's different... he's like our family. No, no... he is our family, I love him like a father, sometimes I- I wish he was my father. Charlotte, well she's nowhere near becoming part of the family, I hate her and she hates me, she always has. And if I remember correctly she thinks of me as a spoilt brat who doesn't deserve a life of wealth. I stepped out of the car and proceeded towards the house, I felt angry now other than frightened because to start with I knew Mycroft would be here today to defend me and whenever he was in the house I didn't feel as scared, but only when he left did I return to my old self. I walked through the front door and father was there in his favourite seat reading the Guardian newspaper. I walked forwards towards the staircase, he must have seen Mycroft because he was putting on a kind voice.

"Hey, Sherlock! How was school?" I ignored him knowing I would regret it later but right now I was angry, just like Mycroft, I wouldn't normally be acting like this but because my big brother was here I felt I could access more emotions than I would usually be allowed to on my own. I walked to the top of the stairs and stayed there just to look and listen to Mycroft and father's conversation. "Well, what's his problem?" He chuckled slightly pointing to the stairs from where I once was. Mycroft had just properly walked through the door, he slammed it shut and rested his head against it.

"What's his problem?" His fist connected with the wall. "WHAT IS HIS PROBLEM?" He turned around to face father, he was full of rage. Seeing Mycroft's reaction made me think he inherited father's anger issues. "Father, WHAT THE HELL? Never mind his problem, what's yours?"

"Mycroft, what's happened? What's he been lying about now?" I could tell father was getting worried; he seemed to think I had spoken to Mycroft about the beatings.

"He didn't lie about anything! Who was supposed to pick him up from school today?" Father let out a sigh of relief as he realised Mycroft wasn't talking about the beats, but he disguised the sigh as an exhale of air as though he was in shock.

"Listen, Mycroft, I am so sor-"

"IF YOU'RE GOING TO SAY YOU'RE SORRY YOU CAN FORGET IT!" Mycroft raised a hand to his mouth in disappointment and repulse, when he calmed himself down he appeared to have shed a few tears. "oh, my God." He whispered the three words with such care. "Have you any idea what happened today?" Mycroft was trying to hide his tears, but couldn't as he was too hurt to accomplish even that one task.

"He walked home and you gave him a lift."

"Don't play smart with me! Don't you DARE!" I noticed father tense up, he had never liked to be shouted at, but he preferred Mycroft to me and tried his best not to lash out. "Do you realise what would have happened if I had not passed by? DO YOU?"

"Mycroft, he was only walking home, what's the worst that could happen?"

"I can't believe I'm hearing this! The worst that could happen is that he is kidnapped by a paedophile... Oh wait!" He gave a sarcastic laugh on the last two words to try and comfort his emotions. "That almost DID happen!"

"What? You... you mean-"

"Yes, father! That's exactly what I mean! If it weren't for me, Sherlock would be in the hands of some sick man who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. Sherlock could have been dead within the next week... and if not, that poor child inside of him would have been destroyed. How could you father? How could you?"

"Well he's done it before." Mycroft stared at father in utter disbelief.

"You are unbelievable! I've had enough of this, I'm going home. Don't ever let me catch Sherlock walking home on his own again! Goodbye, Sherlock! I know you've been listening." I realise there is now no point in hiding, I revealed myself from my hiding spot and saw both father and Mycroft looking up at me. "Goodbye father. I pray we won't have an incident like this again." And with that he left the house, I could hear the car driving away, with all of my hopes closely following behind. I looked to my father who was glaring daggers at me.

"You mind _fucking_ telling me what that was all about?"

"I- I..."

"RIGHT, COME HERE!" I didn't move so he began to run up the stairs towards me and in response I ran to my bedroom, and as usual it did no good. I received three more bruises today, I need help.

XxXxXxXx

Later that night I had a nightmare about the man who tried to abduct me, I dreamt about what he would have done, it was incredibly detailed and I could feel my emotions as though it was actually happening. I only noticed I had woken up screaming when my mother walked into my room.

"Sherlock? Sherlock, sweetie are you alright?" She switched on my light and saw me on the window ledge, I had been crying and my face was covered in sweat. "Sherlock, what are you doing up there? Why aren't you in bed?"

"Sorry mother, it's just- I was looking at the sky, admiring how beautiful it is." She gave a sad smile and a sigh.

"Come on, let's get into bed." I got down from where I was and got into my bed, mother tucked me in and stroked my hair from my forehead. My eyelids began to get heavier but I didn't want to sleep. "We'll talk about your dream in the morning. Try to think of happy things from now on." She looked at the clock and sighed. "It's four, forty-eight in the morning Sherlock, time to sleep." She kissed me on the forehead and began to hum that song again; it's called 'Baby Mine', I vaguely remember it from when I was at least four years old. It was a beautiful tune and her voice made it stand out even more. Soon enough I was fast asleep again, dreaming of better things this time, but when you are happiest, something always has to ruin it. For me, it's always father, I can't even escape him when I am dreaming. I need a saviour, and I need them now, God help me.

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**Forgot to mention, I've put a reference in for a drama script that I am currently performing in my school. It's called 4:48 Psychosis by Sarah Kane, it's about a woman (who I think is Sarah Kane) and she has an eating disorder and suffers from insomnia which is a link to the title 4:48 as it is the darkest time of the night, I don't know if you have worked it out yet about his mother in the story, oops, probably just gave it away to some of you. :D Don't forget to review, I will try my best to reply now as I have nothing else to do with my life. Thanks for reading! **


	14. Age 12

**I am so sorry as to how late this is, my mind was abducted by Glee so I've just spent the past two weeks trying to rescue it, I got it back eventually but at a price, I've started writing Glee Fanfics so expect some from me in about a week or so, Lol. Right this is the latest chapter, mentions of a certain illness (Not bad though) please review, you know I love it, I promise to get around to my there fanfictions, don't worry if you read them they are not forgotten. :D Again enjoy. **

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**The Era of Holmes**

_Age 12: Carl Powers_

It happened while we were in the town centre, all over the news and people talking about it wherever you went. 'Did you hear about it?' and 'That poor boy', they were talking about a young swimmer called Carl Powers, he was visiting London and had drowned in a swimming pool, but something didn't quite add up. I was walking with Mycroft when I noticed the pool where it had happened, he was talking to me about something boring, I felt that it would be more interesting to see if I could sneak into the leisure centre and have a look around. Lately I've been hidden in my room and I have begun being able to notice things about people from the smallest of details, there was a house party the other day and that was the first time I had properly tested it out on a real person that I didn't know anything about. There was a married couple, the man had his arm around the woman's waist constantly and the woman was pregnant but it was clear that the baby did not belong to her husband, every time the child was mentioned he would hold her tighter showing his pride but she would give an unsure smile and try to pull away from him in a subtle way, I would smirk at the thought, it may be cruel but it was amusing to think how he would find out- oh, and he _would _find out that was written all over her body language. Moving back to the original topic I did eventually sneak into the crime scene being twelve it's easy to slip in unnoticed. I eventually found myself in the locker room, it took me a few seconds to find his locker, I had a pair of gloves in my pocket because it was a cold day, I put the gloves on to try and not tamper with any evidence so that I became a suspect, that would be bad. Inside the locker there was a towel, a blue jumper, white shirt, some black trousers that seemed too small for a boy of his age and... _Strange... _there aren't any shoes... Why are there no shoes? I turned around 360 degrees circle to look for any abandoned shoes, in the corner of my eye I spotted another boy, roughly my age, I was about to speak to him when another voice interrupted me.

"OI!" I spun around to see a policeman at the end of the room, he started to run at me. My only instinct was to run aswell, I wasn't looking where I was going when I bumped into something, falling backwards onto my back I look and see a young officer staring at me. "You are in some trouble now sonny-Jim."

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"SHERLOCK!" Mycroft burst through the door in the police station, his emotions were a mix between fear and fury. He ran to me as soon as he saw me and held me in a big hug, I could hardly breathe. "Don't you ever do that to me again!" I felt like he was going to hit me, just like father would, I found it confusing with all of the care he was giving me. "I am so sorry officers, I had no idea he left me, he's going _straight _home now. Thank you for finding him, I was about to ring the police before I received the call." He grabbed my hand I was reluctant about it though. "Again, thank you." We both walked out of the station and into one of his many black cars, we sat in silence for five minutes until Mycroft spoke. "I'm very disappointed in you, Sherlock."

"Why... Because I found something more interesting to do?"

"Sherlock! What's the matter with you? You are really out of sorts today, you better get that attitude sorted out by the time we get home. Mother and father aren't going to be pleased about your little run away today, you could have gotten into some serious trouble today!" I was scared and upset now, I couldn't help the single tear roll down my cheek. "Oh, wipe up those crocodile tears!" Mycroft sounded very angry and that scared me, he had father's angry voice.

"Don't hit me." He was speechless, but so was I, it was an automatic reaction and I couldn't believe it slipped out.

"Why in _God's _name would I hit you? I would never hit you Sherlock, it's wrong, you're only a boy and you're my baby brother... I'm supposed to protect you not encourage violence." If only he knew about father, he's supposed to protect me, not beat me like he does. Mycroft wrapped an arm around me and pulled me in for another hug, I cried into his chest now not afraid to let my fear emotions slip in with my sad emotions. He patted my dark curly hair and gently hushed me with calm words. When we arrived at the house mother was out again and father was in his study, when father was in his study he was never in the best of moods, which was always the worst type of day for me. I ran to my bedroom and hid there for the whole time Mycroft told him about what happened today. The stupid policemen, it's stupidly obvious that there were no shoes, I was practically screaming at them about it, '_His shoes are missing! Aren't you going to do something about that?_' but they still paid no attention, just shrugged me off of their shoulder and called me a stupid boy and stuff like that. It was around four o'clock in the morning and I was once again sat on my window ledge, I was too scared to sleep, father hadn't hit me today but he was sure going to do it at some point, either in the night or today and it would be twice as bad. I could hear floorboards creak outside my room, a light had been switched on but the person was walking away, it wasn't father, this person had been doing it for a month now, I have reason to believe its mother. Slowly I lower myself to the floor and proceed to my door, luckily I have a door that doesn't creak. I made my way downstairs to see my mother crying, head in her hands.

"Mother..?" She was startled to see me, I had made her jump by accident, and she wiped away her tears and smiled at me.

"Sherlock, what are you doing up at this time?"

"I couldn't sleep." She patted a space next to her on the settee, I walked down the stairs and sat next to her, she wrapped her arms around me, I felt like nothing could hurt me in her arms... If only I could stay there forever. She kissed my forehead and stroked my hair.

"Mummy's having sleeping troubles too, it's alright... I'm right here." I'd read about illnesses recently and realized that mother had been getting up every night at roughly the same time and she's always depressed in the day, that's why she never stays in the house because she thinks it dulls her senses and goes out with friends to _try _and take her mind off of it... but she knows she can't escape the night. I have reason to believe that mother has... insomnia? But she couldn't have! Could she? I daren't ask her, I could never bring myself to say something to her that would hurt her so I sat in silence thinking it through, I eventually fell asleep in her arms, both of us dreading the next day.

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**That's the best I could do. Next chapter I am going to try and make you cry, I'm not good at it though :/ But like I said I will try...**

******Feed me your thoughts because I'm hungry! :D**


	15. Age 13

**Oh. My. God! I am SOOOOOOOOOO sorry! I just got caught up with Glee and I've written GOD knows how many fictions for it now, which I should post up sometime (No idea when) if you're interested. Btw I'm not dead... Lol you'd have never guessed :)  
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**WARNING! - This chapter contains abuse, death, eating disorder, swearing and guilt (If you have ever lost a family member and blame yourself, please don't read the last paragraph in Sherlock's POV, I don't want it to be a trigger or anything.)**

**I'm sorry if anything I've written is not accurate but I did my best and sorry for any mistakes, my fault completely.**

**I OWN NOTHING! N.O.T.H.I.N.G. Except the story line :D**

**Please review because I've eaten enough ideas I just need feed off your thoughts! :D**

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**The Era of Holmes**

_Age 13: This was your entire fault!_

_(Sherlock's POV)_

It was a Sunday today and I had not left the house... or my room, father was in the lounge reading his newspaper, I stayed upstairs not wanting to go near him. I would practice playing my violin; make the occasional small experiment... nothing interesting. I hadn't left my room since Friday when I returned from school, of course it didn't stop father hitting me. Mother had gone shopping with Charlotte, leaving me alone in the house with my father. I had not had any lunch and by the looks of things I won't be having any dinner, I would make my own but if I went near him something was definitely going to happen. Lately I've not been hungry; I have controlled my thoughts on food, I used to crave it but I know that craving food leads to snacking and snacking makes you fat, like me... I 'm too fat I need to be thinner. I usually refuse any form of food offered to me by my mother. I could tell she was concerned but I was fine, I've just been going on some form of diet. I believe that Mycroft should do the same; I can't say much for his size. The time was coming up to about five o'clock and my stomach was growling at me, I had starved it, I realise that, but my mind was telling me I'm not hungry, therefore... I'm not going to eat. The growling sensation got louder and more violent, I had to give in. Slowly I opened my bedroom door and peered out onto the hallway looking for any sign of my father. It was clear; I cautiously stepped out and shut my door behind me as quietly as possible. I was practically tiptoeing trying my best not to be heard by the monster lurking downstairs. I came to the balcony on my stairs, I looked over the edge and there he was, still reading the paper in front of the roaring fire place. Step by step I made my way down the stairs making as little sound as possible. My converses were the most silent shoes I owned, so when I walked across the laminate flooring I remained soundless. When I made my way to the doorway to the kitchen I glanced over my shoulder to see if my father had spotted me, he was still sat in front of the fire reading his paper. I entered the kitchen and went straight to the fridge; I couldn't be bothered cooking something... a snack would do. I picked up a large bar of chocolate. _Don't do it. _I just stood there looking at the food. _You've been doing so well, don't ruin it now. _I usually listen to my mind but I was too hungry to listen. Shutting the fridge door I ripped the packet open and stuffed my face with the sweet taste of dairy milk chocolate, I couldn't stop myself I ate the whole bar... it wasn't enough. I ran to the cupboard and fished out any biscuits I could find. Everything I ate was sweet and unhealthy. Finally I finished my food fiasco; I threw the rubbish in the bin, quite satisfied with myself, but then that voice came back. _Look at yourself... look at what you did. You're fat! Fatter than before! You're disgusting! _It was true. I looked in the window and saw my reflection I was the size of a hot air balloon. How could I do this to myself? How? _You'll end up like your brother! And you don't want that do you? _I didn't want that. I had to get rid of everything I had just eaten. I ran to the sink and held two of my fingers to my mouth... I'd never done this before... I looked at my reflection in the window, I couldn't do it and even though I said that my fingers remained where they were. I didn't know what to do, I was terrified. _Do it you fat shit! No wonder he hit's you it's because you're such a big target, he'd never miss! Do it. Do it! DO IT! _I stuck two fingers down my throat causing me to gip and then it came, my vomit went all down my chin and into the sink, my head was down so I never looked at my reflection, knowing that I would see a half dead boy begging for food... but it had to be done, I could _not _end up like Mycroft. I started wiping my sleeve on my chin clearing away the sick that had covered my face. My legs buckled beneath me, but I never fell down, I just felt so weak. I was craving rest now... but I never slept, I was too scared in case he came into my room just to hit me because his horse didn't win in the derby or with some other stupid reason. I lifted my head up to look at my reflection, scared of what I might see. I had a right to be scared standing behind me was my father. I turned around at lightning speed to see the anger spread across his face.

"Were you just sick boy? Did you make yourself throw up?" I shook my head frantically.

"N-no, it was food poisoning." I could have sworn that his eyes turned a shade or red for a second when I told that lie. He got so angry with me when I lied to him and he knew about it. He raised his hand and backhanded me across my cheek, my hand flew to my face to try and soothe the burning sensation that he created.

"Don't lie to me you little bastard! You haven't eaten anything _to _get food poisoning!" He grabbed my wrist that was covering my swollen cheek and dragged me out of the kitchen, I knew exactly where he was taking me and I struggled to escape his grasp. I didn't want to go back there; he hit me twice as hard in that hellhole. _This is all your fault! If you hadn't been such a greedy pig this wouldn't have happened! _I started hitting him with my free hand, he never looked at me once but his vice like grip on my wrist was met with one on my other wrist, I never gave up fighting to escape. I should have saved what strength I had left. We reached the door to the basement; he unlocked it and threw me in. I fell hard onto the floor grazing my knees in the process. This time he didn't shut the door, he knew nobody would be in the house for another two hours so there was no point really. I tried to get up but he kicked me in the stomach knocking me to the floor.

"Why can't you just be grateful? You've got a house and food but you still want more!" He started unbuckling his belt, folding it over he held it in one hand, raised it and whipped it down onto my back. I screamed in agony, the buckle end was cutting through my shirt and scarring my pale skin, bruises formed easily on me, that's why it was very rare of him to beat me in any other place than my stomach, back or legs, he avoided going near my ankles though. More slashes came down on my back, but what happened next made my blood run cold yet still warmed my heart.

"RICHARD WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Mother. I tried to turn my head to take a look at her, but something inside of me forced me not to look. Assuring me that the look on her face was something I wouldn't want to see. The strange thing was though, father never stopped. I felt a pause, turning around I noticed tears rolling down her cheeks. "Richard! STOP!" His arm rose again, except this time she grabbed his arm trying to pull it back. He turned to her, full of rage and pushed her off, catching her off guard. Mother fell backwards and had nothing to grab onto she hit her head on the corner of the table and fell to the ground surrounded by a fresh, small pool of blood.

"NO!" I screamed out loud, causing father to snap out of his trance, he took one look at mothers still body and froze.

"Emily..? Emily, darling... wake up... please?" She didn't move, he dropped the belt and ran out of the room, the man was that heartless he didn't even try to see if she was still alive. I had no idea what he was up to, but he was a very intelligent man, whatever he was going to do it would be pure genius and very bad news for me. I crawled over to her, tears pouring down my face, I slowly turned her over in my lap, her breathing was hoarse. Everything she did was slow, she looked at me and managed a faint smile before raising a hand to place on my cheek.

"I-I'm so s-sorry, my- my darling."

"Why?"

"I-I should have- should have known." I closed my eyes tightly and buried my face into her soft palm, placing mine over hers holding it securely in place. I was hysterical, my breathing was all over the place and I was sobbing uncontrollably. "Shh..." How could she be comforting me? She was the one dying... but what really got me what when she started to sing. "Baby mine... don't you cry... Baby m-mine, dry your... eyes..." She started wiping my tears with her thumb. "R-rest your h-head close to my... h-heart...n-never to... to part b-baby of..." Her hand on my cheek fell limp as it rested in my hand. I opened my eyes and looked at her through my blurry vision, she was just lying there, I gently shook her.

"Mother? Say 'mine' mother... mother, please say 'mine'. Finish the song. Please? Please, finish the sentence! No, no please! PLEASE! YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME, PLEASE! I'M BEGGING YOU! PLEASE COME BACK! YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME WITH HIM!" She was gone, I let her hand go and picked her torso up, cradling it in my arms not caring about the blood. I buried my head into the crook of her neck sobbing my heart out, crying and screaming. Nothing I could say or do would bring her back. I could hear footsteps running towards the door, I hoped to see anyone other than the person who actually came. It was father, he was in a rush, I had no reason to care about him, I just wanted to be with my mother. He grabbed my upper arm and pulled me away from her, I started kicking and screaming more than I had previously. "NO! NO LET GO OF ME! MOTHER, NO!" I was still in the basement but at the far end away from her. He threw me against the wall, I hit my head and the world started to spin. Only for a minute or so, but that's all my father needed for what he was going to do.

"This was your entire fault! _You_ killed her! If you hadn't made so much noise she would... she would still be alive!" He pulled my arms behind my back and tied them together with what I believed to be a single plastic cuff. After he did that he pulled my head up and tied a piece of cloth between my lips. "Now then, Mycroft is on his way, he's going to find the house a mess, valuables missing and you and your mother in here like this. He's going to ask you what happened and you are going to tell him you were attacked by burglars and they... killed... your mother when she tried to protect you." I finally came around properly, my eyes widened at the shock of what my father had done to me, I tried to kick him off, but he held my legs together and took out another single plastic strap and tied my feet together. I looked at him with fear in my eyes. "I wish you would cooperate! Nod if you understand what you're supposed to do." I nodded and he grinned at me. "Good. I'm going to be at 'work' and if you tell him what happened... I. Will. Destroy. You... Am I clear?" I nodded again and glanced at mother, the tears just fell from my already soar eyes. Father got up and walked over to her.

"He will pay for this, Emily, my love. He. Will. Pay." And with that he left the room.

_(Mycroft's POV)_

I was currently trying to seduce my secretary at the time when father rang me to see if I could babysit Sherlock for a couple of hours. Of course I said yes, it was always a pleasure to see my baby brother. Even though I was desperate to get into my secretary's knickers... I'm young and in need of intimacy, you can't blame me, plus with blonde hair, green eyes and a body to send a man insane how could a person not want her? Anyway it took me half an hour to arrive at Holmes manor. I took my key out of my pocket ready to unlock the door when I found it slightly ajar. I pushed the door carefully and the sight I saw was not pleasant. The living room looked like a bomb sight, the tables and chairs had been tipped over, drawers were lying on the floor or hanging out of their rightful place. Books had been thrown carelessly on the floor and papers were everywhere. I slowly made my way into the house.

"Sherlock?" I wasn't bothered if the attackers were still in the house, I needed to find my little brother. Nobody appeared at my voice, I was guessing they had left whoever 'they' were. I spoke up again. "Sherlock?" I had to find him, he could be hurt and god forbid if he was kidnapped, I wouldn't know what to do with myself! "SHERLOCK?" I ran up stairs and into his bedroom... nothing... he wasn't there. I checked every room upstairs before revisiting the living room, I tried to concentrate. Finally I calmed myself down and took a moment to just listen. Ragged breathing. Muffled sobs. He was still in the house... but where? Under the stairs I noticed something peculiar, a thin ray of light shining from a crack. I approached the spot with caution. Tracing my hand over the wood I found a small handle. It was a door. I carefully opened the hidden door and slowly peered inside. "Sherlock..?" there were a small set of stairs and a heavy metal door that was open. And if I saw correctly and pale hand could be seen laid on the floor. I wasted no time, I practically ran down the stair. "Sherlock!" Reaching the doorway I was met with a sight I would never have been ready to see in a million years. "Mummy..?" I was a very tough person on the inside, never showing emotion but this just made me break down. Tears were rolling down my cheeks. I heard a muffled cry. I looked up from mummy and saw my baby brother tied and gagged in the corner, he too was crying. "Sherlock!" I ran to him and pulled the wretched cloth from his pale dry lips. I held him close and he just broke down into floods of tears. "Shh... it's alright... you're alright I've got you."

"She's gone My-Myke... she's gone." The last time I heard him call me My-Myke was when he was five and had recently had a nightmare.

"What happened Sherlock?" When he didn't answer straight away I asked him again.

"I- Well- Father had just left the house to g-go to work... and about five minutes later... three men broke into the house, I-I tried to hide from them by running into here, b-but they c-caught me... and then m-mother came home early from her sh-shopping trip and she-she saw them hurting me... they killed her because she was trying to protect me..." He broke down again. The story broke my heart. I realised I had nothing on me to cut his bonds, it wasn't like I could unfasten them, it was the type where once they fasten there's no unfastening. I pulled Sherlock away and place both my hands on his face. "I'll be back little brother, just give me a minute." He nodded and I ran out of the room, into the kitchen to find some scissors and back to Sherlock. I cut through his bonds and he instantly wrapped his arms around me burying his head into my neck. "There, there. You're safe now." He sniffed.

"Please get me out of here." His voice was so quiet I nearly didn't hear it. I nodded and we both stood up.

"Of course, Sherlock."

An hour later the police and an ambulance had arrived, questioning us both and checking over Sherlock's injuries. I had called father and told him about mother... the poor man sounded distraught. Luck just didn't seem to like the Holmes family. It's about time we got some of it.

_(Sherlock's POV)_

_This was your entire fault. You killed her. This was your entire fault. You killed her. This was your entire fault. You killed her. This was your entire fault. You killed her. _No! NO I DIDN'T MEAN IT! NO! PLEASE! _This was your entire fault. You killed her. This was your entire fault. You killed her. This was your entire fault. You killed her._ I'M SORRY! MOTHER I'M SORRY! PLEASE FORGIVE ME! _This was your entire fault. You killed her. This was your entire fault. You killed her. This was your entire fault. You killed her. This was your entire fault. You killed her. _He's going to hurt me in ways like never before... I'm going to die before I'm eighteen and why? Because this was my entire fault... I killed my mother with my own stupidity.

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**Now, I've changed... slightly :P I promise you if you review I WILL write back, because I feel mean if I don't and I'm going to try and write MY very first review... I'm just scared because there are so many fictions out there I don't know which one deserves my first words :P Lol  
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**Don't forget I live off your thoughts :P ...Yum...**


	16. Age 14

**Hello, hello, hello! :D Sorry for the ridiculous long wait but I've been distracted by other fictions, I MUST upload them! But you know... well... maybe you don't.****  
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**WARNING! - Self harm, swearing and abuse**

******I apologise for any mistakes I have made, but most of the time this was written at like 2 in the morning :P**

******I still own nothing, if I did Sherlock would have aired a LONG time ago! :D **

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**The Era of Holmes**

_Age 14: Cut, cut, cut_

(Sherlock's POV)

I was laid on my bed reading a book about god knows what, I had just picked it up hoping it would help cure my boredom but it did no such thing. Placing the book down beside me I sighed loudly. Life was dull without mother, I felt empty and I never let my emotions out very often. Lately, I had fallen into a routine with my father, every day I would make his lunch, clean the house, pay for something, make dinner, tidy up any new mess up, receive a beating from my father and then go to sleep... well get as much sleep that I can muster. That is basically my life. However, a few days ago I started to get a visitor, the girl I met a few years ago, she came to me again. She'll visit every day when my father isn't home. Irene. That's her name, Irene Adler. Although when I saw her recently her hair was no longer blonde but auburn, I thought it odd that her hair colour would change but I decided not to mention it, but she somehow knew I was confused and she explained to me that her hair is actually brown, the blonde was a disguise. The police knew she was in England and that she had no parents of course they were going to be looking for her.

I lifted my wrist above my head to look at my watch, it was ten past three, father would be arriving home in an hour and twenty minutes, best get started on dinner. I sat up on the bed and rubbed my eyes with my hands, this day was dragging on. I jumped up off of the bed and made my way towards my bedroom door. Reaching out my hand to the door handle I heard a knock at the window. Quickly I turned around to see the familiar auburn hair belonging to the one and only Irene. She smiled at me and waved. I walked over to the window and unlocked it for her. She made her way inside my room and combed her fingers through her hair.

"It's windy out there." Her American accent filled the room. We both smiled at each other, lost in a trance of happiness before I turned away blushing slightly. She was a good friend and took my mind off of my father, she always made me feel happy and... I don't know... it's just my teenage hormones but every time I look at her I feel a sense of attraction, I doubt she would feel the same about me, Irene is way out of my league... and also, I don't do relationships... at least I think I don't. But anyway, I looked up at her coyly before clearing my throat.

"I um... I'm about to make a start on dinner for my father, so... I'm going downstairs if you'd like to join me." She closed the window and locked it.

"Sure... lead the way."I made my way out of my room, down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Half an hour later Irene had seated herself on the kitchen's island counter whilst I chopped some carrots. She kicked her leg out and tapped me on my back.

"So why don't you go to the police?"

"Why don't you?" I was surprised how quickly I shot an answer back at her, _I_ turned around to look at her reaction and she was definitely not amused, giving me a sarcastic smile and petty laugh, I turned back to my job.

"But seriously, he hurts you... and it's wrong. You need to tell someone." I turned around again and gave her a confused look.

"I have you though... you know about it, why does anyone else need to know?" She jumped down from the counter and gently placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Because it's _child abuse_! What he is doing is hurting you! It's not FAIR!"

"LIFE's not fair!"

"SHERLOCK PLEASE!" I refused to face her anymore, I continued with the vegetables, how _dare_ she tell me what I should and shouldn't do! I don't need help, I tried asking for it before but I got turned away! By my own BROTHER! "Look, you need to realise that it's not wrong a-and inhuman!" I spun around to continue this argument whilst at the same time I carried on with the vegetables.

"I believe that it's my choice whether I tell someone or not, who would care about me-"

"Sherlock-"

"I mean who would even listen to me-"

"Sherlock-"

"My abomination of a father is a very powerful businessman and would make sure his word was the only one heard!"

"SHERLOCK!"

"WHAT?" She pointed to the chopping board or more specifically my left hand.

"You're bleeding!" I looked at my hand and noticed it was covered crimson with blood, I dropped the knife and it hit the edge of the counter and slid to the floor, narrowly missing my foot as it slid underneath the counter. I staggered backwards and clutched my left hand.

"Oh dear, so I am." She opened a cupboard in the kitchen and pulled out a first aid kit, I looked at her with a confused expression.

"I put one in every room in case something happened... don't worry, I know my first aid." She picked up a tea towel and wrapped it around my bloody hand. "Put pressure on it while I get the bandages." I held onto the towel keeping it on my hand. Irene opened the first aid box and pulled the bandages out. "Here we go," she removed the towel and began to bandage up my hand, however not once did I wince in pain, Irene had noticed this but decided not to say anything. My hand was now covered in a white cloth. She looked at me and smiled a sad smile. "I'll continue for you." She cleaned up the blood that was on the counter, Irene looked to the floor but couldn't find the knife, she decided to leave it there and pick up another knife on the tabletop, and she began to cut the veg. There was a long silence before I decide to bring the topic up that I knew both of us had been desperate to talk about.

"I don't feel anything..." Irene stopped and looked at me.

"You what?" I lifted my hand in the air.

"I said I can't feel anything... why doesn't it hurt?" I began to panic slightly, this made no sense, and I was supposed to be in pain, not feel anything. Irene looked concerned for me and slightly worried.

"I'm sure it's just the shock."

"I'm not it shock!" She carried on finishing off my job by scraping the contents on the chopping board into a pan.

"Then why are you being hysterical?"

"BECAUSE I CAN'T FEEL THE PAIN!" That made her stop everything she was doing. Turning to me again she raised a hand to stroke my cheek but I backed away and shook my head.

"Sherlock..."

"I think you should leave." Her face was full of hurt and it made it too painful for me to even look at her.

"Sher-"

"Just- just go." I never raised my voice but she knew I needed to be alone. Walking up to me she put a hand on my shoulder.

"Don't do anything stupid... please." And with that, she left through the front door. I never cried but this time I couldn't stop myself, the tears ran down my cheeks, and slowly I sunk to the floor and landed in a messy heap. My sobs got louder and my breathing more uneven. I had no idea how long I had been crying on the floor, I was currently curled up in a ball. I slowly released myself and just by chance caught sight of a shining object underneath the kitchen counter. I reached my good hand out to pick it up and hissed in pain recoiling it quickly; I looked at my hand now finding it covered in blood. But the strange thing was I found it quite satisfying. I picked the knife up holding onto the handle in my right hand, hovering the blade over my wrist, and gradually lowered the sharp objects down onto my pale skin creating a thin red line. I winced at first but eventually settling into a system, this was nothing compared to the pain I suffer with my father... this was a release, but if my father found me like this he would be furious... no, NO! STOP! My brain was screaming at me to stop what I was doing but my body had a mind of its own, I could no longer control what I was doing. The feeling was something I had never before experienced, even though I knew I had to stop, I didn't want to. I lifted the blade again and this time took a quick and swift swipe, I did this three more times before I threw the knife to the floor and screamed.

"I CAN'T FEEL ANYTHING!" My hands snaked their way into my curly hair and began to pull at the thick strands; blood was running down my arm. I quickly looked to the knife again, it was like a drug, I needed more, scrambling across the floor I picked the knife up and started to cut my right wrist this time, getting faster and faster and faster until-

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?" My head snapped up and I saw dark cold eyes glaring at me, I dropped the knife and tried to back away from them. I never heard my father return home, he grabbed my upper arm and pulled me towards him, his eyes widened in horror. "Jesus Christ!" I noticed he was staring at the large pool of blood I had caused. His face contorted into pure rage. I was standing on my feet now he pulled me close to his chest and leant over, gritting his teeth to try and contain his anger from bursting, he snarled his way through everything he said. "_Thought you could kill yourself, huh? I bet-_"

"No I-"

"_DON'T interrupt me, boy!_" He raised his free hand and brought it crashing down to my face, I cried out in fear.

The next thing I knew I was in my father's car being driven to the hospital. We never spoke, until we were a couple of minutes away he turned to me and hissed, "_You best get rid of those tears boy, and you say anything, and I _mean _anything about these_" he pulled on the collar of my shirt so that it revealed a few of my bruises that contrasted against my pale skin, "_then I'll make sure you never see daylight again! Got it?_" I nodded frantically. "Good." He pushed me back against the window; my head hit the glass with a _thud. _That was going to bruise. He pulled up at the hospital and we both got out, my hands were wrapped up in bandages and my eyes were no longer processing tears but they were still bloodshot. He held onto my elbow as we walked inside the woman at the desk in the reception looked up to us, her expression completely blank.

"What appears to be the problem?" He looked down at me, I was still growing but my father towered over me, he was extremely tall, he lifted my arm up showing my wrist.

"I caught him with a knife and now he won't stop bleeding." The receptionist picked up the phone and called a doctor, she sounded urgent, I wouldn't have thought it was that much of a fuss, even if I did feel slightly off balance and faint. A male doctor came rushing up to me and held my wrists in his hands.

"I need to take you to an examination room."I never liked hospitals, only bad things happen here. I was taken into a white room and told to sit down on a chair; he sat opposite me and placed both of his hands on my left wrist. "I'm going to take the bandages off to get a better look at the wounds, alright?" I nodded; he slowly took off the blood soaked rags to reveal my bloody and abused wrist, he did the same with my right wrist.

Two hours later I walked back through the reception to see my father, _brilliant_. My hands had fresh bandages on and the wounds had been disinfected. I sat down in the waiting room where my father and the doctor who treated me were having a conversation about me; I was already growing tired of their talk within a couple of minutes. They had their backs turned to me, now was my chance, I was already in deep trouble as it is how was one more incident going to change my fate? I stood up from the chair and casually walked out of the hospital, never looking back.

XxXxXxXx

(Richard Holmes' POV)

I had been sat in the waiting room for about two hours. That _stupid _boy! How DARE he do that to me! I give him a home, I give him food and water, I give him _everything_ and yet he still tries to kill himself, ungrateful little shit. I looked up to see my disgraceful son and the doctor he walked off with walking towards me. Sherlock came along and sat down on a chair leaving an empty seat between us. I glared at him, he never looked at me but I knew he could feel my stare; he looked uncomfortable and awkward; of course he knew I was looking at him. It annoyed me how he kept his distance, _I'll deal with you tonight_. The doctor walked up to me my head snapped around to face him as soon as he started to speak.

"Mr Holmes, may I have a word with you?"

"Of course." Oh crap, this sounded serious, has the little brat told him? Has he found the bruises? What if he finds the scars on his back? I stood up from the hospital chair and walked off with the man in the white coat, we never left the room but stood out of Sherlock's earshot. "What was it you wanted to talk about, Doctor?" He licked his lips before speaking.

"You realise how bad the injuries are don't you?" I nodded, where was this going? If this was some crafty way of his to get to the subject of the bruises- "Well it's a good job you caught him when you did, I take it he's new to self harming as the wounds were out of control and fresh, if he'd have continued for I say another five minutes he could have killed himself due to blood loss." I never realised that I had been holding my breath as I let out a sigh of relief.

"Thank you doctor." I tried to turn away but he caught my arm, I nearly swung at him, but then I remembered who it was.

"Mr Holmes, I suggest you keep a close eye on him. Remove any sharp objects he possesses, keys, scissors etcetera."

"Oh, don't worry; from now on I'll never let him out of my sight. Isn't that right Sherlock?" I turned around and faked a smile at... nothing... where is he? "Sherlock?" I looked around the room frantically, but there was no sign of that mop of dark curly hair he was so fond of, personally I thought it was ridiculous and needed dealing with. The anger in the pit of my stomach was beginning to bubble and boil. "SHERLOCK!"

XxXxXxXx

(Sherlock's POV)

I was wandering along the streets for about ten minutes it was dark now, only the street lamps occupied light for the roads, just by chance I turned my head towards an alley and caught sight of something glinting in the lights available. My curiosity got the better of me, I don't know why I had an interest in this mysterious object it was almost as if my mind subconsciously knew what was there and needed it, and the feeling was more like a _craving_. Taking slow steps my eyes fell upon a shard of glass. I tried to walk away from it but just like before I couldn't control my body, I enjoyed the feeling too much to forget about it or never do it again. Suddenly everything happened in slow motion, I reached a shaking hand down and slowly wrapped my fingers around the glass, but I gripped it too tightly and caused my hand to cut open. Lifting the now blood stained glass in front of my face and smiled. I needed this, but this time it wasn't a need for pain... it was a need for death. What my father had said to me about trying to kill myself, that was a mistake and not intentional, but if he wants me to kill myself then I will, I'm sure Hell would be better than where and how I'm living on earth. The glass was bigger than my hand and had a sharp point to it. I rolled up my jackets sleeve and carefully hovered the glass just over my arm ready to make the deepest cut yet, the blade came slowly down to my arm and I could feel the coolness on my skin just press harder and blood will appear, just a bit more pressure and-

"STOP!" My head shot up from the blade to the voice, I could see a faint shadow walking towards me, "Sherlock, don't... please." I recognised that voice instantly, Irene Adler. I could make out her facial features now; she was standing in front of me. "Whatever happened to don't do anything stupid?" She chuckled lightly to try and bring me back to reality. Gently placing her soft hands onto mine that were still holding onto the glass, she tried to persuade me remove the glass from my hand. "Let go Sherlock... let go of the glass." _Ignore her; you want to leave this world don't you? After all of those years having the crap beaten out of you do you really want to let go, just pierce the skin, do it, DO IT!_

"I- I can't..." She knew I was struggling.

"Sherlock ignore the voice inside your head; listen to me, not your conscience." I closed my eyes tightly and tried to remove the glass but I only held onto it tighter.

"I'm sorry, I just- I just can't!" My voice sounded strained and quiet. "I'm scared of what he will do... I just can't survive in a world where I'm beaten every day for no reason whatsoever!"

"And that's what I'm here for... to save you." I couldn't control my anger.

"THEN SAVE ME!" She shook her head and gave me a sad expression.

"Not from him... from you." My eyes narrowed, and a look of annoyance spread across my face.

"_What? What the FUCK do you mean by THAT?_" She looked at me as though I were stupid.

"LOOK AT YOURSELF! LOOK AT WHAT YOU'RE DOING! And you honestly don't understand why I'm trying to protect you from yourself? I'm trying to show you that life isn't all that bad."

"How isn't it..?" I sounded weak, I felt I had lost hope and just given up. Irene raised her hand a gently caressed my cheek, I closed my eyes and melted into to touch.

"Listen, I'm here... I will try my very best to keep you safe... well sane... I will always be here for you, just do one thing for me... please put down the glass and we can go back to the hospital." I thought for a second before I finally dropped the shard and it smashed into pieces. She looked confused. "You gave up? B-but you never give up that easily." I sighed.

"What's the point in fighting? I only ever lose." I understand where her confusion is coming from, I'm Sherlock Holmes, I never give up... but then I suppose it was going to happen sometime.

XxXxXxXx

As I expected, that night was full of beatings but today he did something new. He brought a knife into the picture.

"I know how much you like knives now you fucking faggot!" The sadist had been keeping a record of how many years my beatings had gone on for, he made me lay on my stomach as he carved a tally into my back, I screamed in agony as I felt nine lines engraved into my pale skin. After he finished with my back he sat me down in a chair, I was too weak and drowsy due to the pain to fight back, but I never expected him to do what he did next, and the carvings were a surprise but this left me in utter shock. He replaced the knife with a wireless razor.

"Time to sort that mess out on your head." He switched it on, I could hear the buzz from the device, I tried to move but I felt too weak to even lift my hand. As the seconds went by I felt my dark curls fall from my head and drop to the floor, tears poured from my eyes. The only time I had ever had my hair this close to bald was when I was born. After he finished his evil doing he walked away from me, I slid to the floor after sitting on the chair. I was currently knelt on the floor surrounded by my dark locks. That was it though. That single act of pure hatred proved to me that this was not my home... it never had been because this was my prison.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed it, btw hope y'all are excited for Sherlock! ONLY 2 MORE DAYS! CANNOT WAIT! Seriously annoying my family by talking about it too much, hope you all had a wonderful Christmas, I sure did :P**

**If you review I will try my best to upload for the 6th of January, you'll find out why :D See you around :P**


	17. Age 15 Part 1

**Sorry t's so late at night but at least I got it up today, sorry if it's rushed but I will never set a date again but I really wanted to get it up for today :D**

**WARNINGS: Swearing, abuse, sexual themes (Nothing bad, it's not even all the way it's just precautions because it's a little mention... nothing more... it's not even that bad but I thought I should mention it)**

**Enjoy :D Any mistakes are mine, also I don't own Sherlock... even though I know I will one day. One day everything Sherlock will be MINE! MUHAHAHAHA! *Ahem* but until that day... I uh... I own nothing :D **

* * *

**The Era of Holmes**

_Age 15: There is a first time for everything_

Today is the sixth of January, my birthday... _lucky me_. My father doesn't even care. The only birthday present I get off him is a new scar. Six in the morning, that's the time I have to get up every morning. I have a shower, I get dressed, I make the house look presentable for my father, to be honest I do everything our maid Charlotte is supposed to do! The lazy bitch. I never liked her and she has always hated me. There's something going on between her and my father, he's too nice on her. He treats me like a piece of shit, and her like... like... well like she's part of the family. I walked to the front door and picked up the post and my father's newspaper, the Guardian, and placed it on the coffee table in front of his arm chair. After I completed my tasks I made my way into the kitchen to cook breakfast for my father. At precisely eight thirty the monster made his way downstairs in his burgandy dressing gown and black slippers. I walked into the living room with breakfast on a tray, he sat down in his chair and picked up his newspaper, he never spoke to me, that's what always scared me the most, the silence. I placed the tray down on the table and began to walk away but I stopped in my tracks when he cleared his throat. I spun around to find him glaring at me, I had no idea what to do with my self, I did the only thing that came to my mind, walk towards him, even though my whole body was screaming at me not to go near him I knew I had to. I was standing next to his arm chair, but he wasn't satisfied, he pointed to the space in front of him, I slowly made my way to stand where he wanted me to. Placing the newspaper down on the arm rest of his chair he slowly rose up from his seat, still taller than me by two inches. He looked furious with me. What had I done now? Nothing! I didn't understand him, he will always be a puzzle to me, but he's one puzzle I really don't want to work out. His nose twitched slightly, it was as though his anger was trying to escape him in any way it could. He looked me up and down before grabbing my arm and putting on pressure.

"Care to explain?" I started to panic.

"I uh- I don't- I don't understand... sir." He lifted my arm in the air and rolled up my sleeve, pinching my skin making it turn pink.

"Trying to starve yourself?" He'd picked up on my eating habits... well, I don't really have any eating habits to tell the truth. Before I had been caught making myself throw up, father didn't act too kindly to that, but I thought if I stopped eating alltogether he wouldn't notice much of a difference, I was wrong though, my shirts have started to hang off of my thin frame. "You're just skin and bones boy, get some meat on you." He threw my arm away and caused me fall over and hit my arm on the edge of the coffee table. "Don't make me force feed you!" I was laid on my back cradling my arm and staring up at my father in horror. His voice dropped down to a growl, "_because I will_." And with that he sat back down and began to eat his breakfast. I quickly stood up and ran off upstairs to my bedroom. I stopped eating properly when my father started using a knife in his beatings. I stopped for the better; it helps me think properly as well, digesting just slows me down.

The next time I looked at the clock it was quarter past eleven in the morning. I sighed, this day was dragging. Then I heard that familiar knock on the window. I ran to the glass to see Irene again, I had possibly the biggest grin on my face ever, I was so happy to see her. I unlocked the window and she climbed in.

"We'll have to be quiet, my father's downstairs."

"Okay." She shut the window behind her and grinned at me, I looked slightly confused.

"What..?" She shook her head and then pulled me into a hug.

"Happy birthday Sherlock." I was amazed she even knew I gave her another look of confusion she obviously knew that I was struggling to understand how she knew about today so instead of me asking her she answered the question I was thinking. "I knew because I've seen you before, celebrating in the past, I wrote it down in my calendar... well, my hand" she lifted her hand to show me what she had written down, in clear black ink was the date '_6__th__ January' _and why it was written there_ 'Sherlock's Birthday' _I could help but chuckle at her attempts to remember. She looked slightly awkward and shy.

"I uh- I have it written down at home... if that makes any difference?"

"Whatever you say Irene." She smiled at me and then pulled something out of her pocket.

"This is for you." It was a small light blue parcel with a dark blue ribbon. I took the package off of her with uncertainty. "It's only a present; it's not going to bite you." She laughed lightly. I was still unsure; the feeling of receiving a present was all a bit alien to me.

"I haven't had a real present in just less than two years." Irene gave me a look that could only say '_oh my god!_'

"Seriously? Not even from your brother?" I sighed and gently placed the blue box on my desk, shaking my head and closing my eyes.

"He's got more important things to worry about and he's too busy to think about me." She gently placed a hand under my chin lifting my head to look at her, her thumb gently brushed over my jaw line, her hands were so soft. I couldn't resist bringing up one of my hands and holding onto hers, I relished her touch, I'd never felt a feeling quite like this before and I enjoyed it.

"You should be his number one priority, not his job." She removed her hand from my cheek.

"But he's in the government."

"_Screw_ the government! You're his younger brother and he should be taking care of you!" She didn't understand my family; as a Holmes you were brought up to do things on your own, not ask for help or have much care for helping others. Mycroft is very protective of me when he wants to be though but what he doesn't know about is my way of protecting him. I tried so hard to tell him but instead I keep it quiet. I opened my mouth to say something but another voice interrupted me.

"SHERLOCK!"

"_Shit!_" Irene looked confused.

"What?" I ran to the door and pushed myself against it using my body as a weak barricade.

"_Go!_ _Irene, GO!_" A loud bang came from the other side of the door and my whole body jumped forwards but I soon regained my footing and continued to press myself against it.

"Open the door you little git!"

"I'll be back for you, I have a surprise." And with that she opened the window and jumped out of it. I felt relieved that she was gone now but my thoughts were soon interrupted when another bang to the door came and sent me flying across the room. Turning around to face the man whom I hated and feared more than anything I backed myself against the wall trying to escape from him.

"I heard voices."

"Uh... i-it was me." My voice wavered; I struggled to keep the same tone. He shrugged it off and looked around my room and of course noticed my window was open.

"Why's your window open? It's the middle of winter!"

"I felt faint." Wow! I was amazed with how quick that came out.

"Then why did you block your door?"

"I uh..."

"HMM?" I couldn't answer him and he knew full well that I couldn't, raising his left hand he backhanded me across the cheek knocking me off balance and onto my side and then he kicked me in the stomach three times before walking out of my room satisfied with his 'work'. I could only hope that Irene's surprise would make up for the pain.

XxXxXxXx

Nearly ten minutes to eleven at night and still no sign of Irene, I started to give up hope. Lifting my violin up I began to play a sorrowful tune but somehow it didn't make things feel any better. I lowered my instrument and sighed.

"She's not coming." Anger filled my head, she promised! Raising the string instrument above my head ready to smash down on the post of my bed I heard a noise that soothed my very soul. A flute! Gently placing my violin on my bed I approached the window and looked out of it to see Irene continuing my melody, the sound she made was beautiful. I had never really considered listening to the flute; it was an instrument that was now on my short list of music to listen to. She finished the song and smiled at me. Waving her up she started to climb up the trellis and onto the stone veranda where my window rested over. She climbed into my room and placed the flute in my desk, her smile faltered when she noticed I had a black eye.

"Sherlock! Oh my God! Are you alright?" Raising a hand I backed away smiling at her.

"Yeah, I-I'm fine. Don't worry about me." I could tell she was trying to ignore it as best as she could when her smile returned again.

"So, are you ready for your big surprise?"  
"I honestly thought that what you got me before would have been enough." I put my hand in my pocket and pulled out a silver pocket watch lined with carved in swirls, the initials S.H. were engraved on the back of the watch, it was perfect.

"Well, it could have been the only thing I wanted to do for you but I wanted to do something else... Do you trust me?"

"I uh... I suppose so."

"Cover your eyes with this." She took a blue scarf off from around her neck and handed it to me.

"What?" She smiled at me.

"Fine, I'll do it, turn around." I didn't move at first but then I relaxed myself and turned around allowing her to blindfold me. I felt the soft fabric cover my eyes; suddenly all of my senses were amplified when my sight disappeared. "Hold my hand." My arms were by my side when I felt a smooth hand slip into mine, I held onto the touch as tightly as I could without hurting her hand. I could sense her presence had changed to a more negative one. "Sherlock... you know I'm never going to leave you."

"I... I know." I slackened my grip on her hand; the truth is I was terrified of losing her. I'd lost everything I ever loved, I don't know what I would do if she left me, I'd probably kill myself or my whole body would go into lockdown.

"Right, let's go. I'll direct you and keep you safe." She gently pulled me so that I followed close behind. "Now then, lift your leg up just over your knee line." I did as she asked and then I had to do the same, I felt a freezing cold wind hit my skin. I knew she had taken me outside; we must have been going somewhere. It took about five minutes to get where Irene said we were meant to be, it was still freezing cold so we must have still been outside. I felt her hand leave mine but pressure applied itself to the back of my head undoing the knot.

"Where are we?"

"You'll see, you ready?" I nodded and she removed the scarf. My eyes scanned the area, we were in an empty field- no, not empty, there was a blanket and a picnic basket with two lit candles covered with a glass tube that had no top to it keeping the wind out but not exterminating the flame. I was slightly confused. "Take a seat." There were two cushions on the rug and I took my place on one.

"Why are we here?"

"Well..." She sat down opposite me and opened the basket pulling out a flask. "Hot coco?"

"You mean chocolate." I chuckled.

"Chocolate, coco, it's all the same. Or I got coffee." I smiled at her.

"Chocolate would be lovely, thank you." She took out a mug from the basket and poured me a drink. I took it off her and held it close keeping me as warm as possible. "So... why did you bring me here?"

"To be the first person who helped you complete one of your goals... I know you always wanted to see the night sky, and what better time to do it than your birthday. Also it's a clear night." My eyes glazed over, I felt close to crying I was so happy, I had waited for so long to see the stars, I cared not of their meaning but of their beauty. I finished my hot drink and placed the mug on the blanket. I shuffled about a bit until the cushion was free from underneath me. Picking it up I placed it exactly where my head would go and I laid back, Irene watched me an almost entranced look across her face as she watched me, I smiled at her looking slightly nervous and my laughing only added to my unease.

"What..?"

"Nothing... just... you're amazing... you know that?"

"Ire-"

"No, Sherlock, seriously, you are _the _most amazing person I have ever met! I love everything about you, how even though your life is pretty shit you still pull through because you _know _that there is a brighter future out there for you. You are _so _amazing! And I..." She placed her mug down and shuffled closer to me so that her head was above mine. "I really... _really_... li-like you..." I paused for a minute before thinking of something to say, she can't have possibly meant that sort of like... could she?

"Well, I like you too."

"No, Sherlock... I really like. Like. You." And ever so slowly she lowered her head and tucked some of her auburn hair behind her ear and in that instant I knew what was going to happen. All this time I had dreamed of being with her, being more than just friends, I never had an interest in relationships but with her I thought differently, I wanted to be with her and no one else could make me feel that way. Moving back to the present I closed my eyes waiting for what was about to happen. And that was when I felt something soft and incredible against my lips. Hers. Her lips were a cherry flavour and oh so soft. I was kissing Irene Adler... well, more like she was kissing me, but still that's not the point! I'd bet a thousand pounds that she had guys falling at her feet, desperate to be with her but she picked me... wait... me, the lonely boy who gets beaten by his father day in day out and my only comfort is my violin and her... this isn't a real kiss this is a pity kiss! But it felt and tasted _so_ good! She broke away and smiled at me.

"How was that for your first kiss?" I was speechless, completely and utterly gobsmacked. I felt a wave of nothingness cross over me, I still had nothing to say, my mouth would keep opening and closing like a fish, but nothing ever came out. Irene looked at me concerned. "Sherlock..? Are you alright..?" Another long pause before I spoke.

"Wow..." She laughed at me and smiled at me so irresistibly... maybe it wasn't a pity kiss... maybe she really meant it. I snaked my hand around the back of her neck and pulled her towards me again both of us grinning away as our lips connected once more. She was desperate to gain entry to my mouth and I eventually gave in, I could feel her exploring every inch of my mouth, we were both moaning in pleasure but I instantly sat up in my place, Irene looked very worried.

"What's wrong?" I never said anything but she knew exactly what I was struggling with. "Oh..." She started to giggle, "Just think of something bad and it will go away." Of course the only think I could think of was my father and I did in fact calm down.

After five minutes we ended up cuddling each other under the stars, I was wearing her scarf... she told me to keep it, strangely enough she was the one who had her arm around me... I felt awkward but I needed the comfort right now, if this was going to be a relationship she would definitely be the one with the balls. I laughed to myself. "What..?"

"Nothing, I was just thinking." She held me tighter. "I just wanted to say, I really like you too."

"I'd have never guessed." We both chuckled. We laid in silence for another couple of minutes before I felt the need to speak once more.

"Thank you... thank you so much."

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**Please review, again sorry for any terrible mistakes or any sign that it is rushed :)**


	18. Age 15 Part 2

**Oh, my god! Well that took effort! :P Hello, it's me again, I'm not dead and this chapter has been killing me forever! I got a MASSIVE writers block and that is the reason for the HUUUUUUGE delay!  
****Well... I've finally done this chapter and it only took me 8 months :P  
****Please enjoy and don't hate me for taking so long**

**(btw you have the film Young Sherlock Holmes to thank. If I didn't watch that today this wouldn't even be up now)  
(****Sorry it's been so long since I posted ANYTHING on here, if it looks like I've lost my rhythm it's because I have) :D**

******Any mistakes are my fault its late at night and I'm tired but this needed to be up :D**

******I OWN ZILCH! Even though I would love to own everything Sherlock :D But I'm getting there... in my own sad little world.**

**WARNINGS: Child abuse, Death, bad language and strangeness all around**

* * *

**The Era of Holmes**

_Age 15: Caught in the act_

_Meet me at our place tonight 11pm X  
x IA x_

The day had dragged unbelievably after I got the note from Irene. I was glad to be home, although father was supposed to be in today which worried me. I really didn't want to be home though, but honestly where would I go? No one would believe me if I told them the truth and father would find me and make me regret running away. I was already regretting the fact that I was thinking about it.

The time finally reached ten to eleven. I packed a small bag full of biscuits and other small snacks. I placed the bag across my shoulder and approached the window in my bedroom. I unlocked the window and opened it up. I jumped up on the window ledge when-

"What the fuck do you think you're going?!" The light was switched on and standing in the doorway was my father.

Busted.

What do I do? Do I get down or continue to leave?

"Get down! NOW!" Father had answered that question for me. I gradually got down off of the window ledge only to have my arm roughly grabbed and pulled far away from my escape. Father shut the window and locked it removing the key as he did. "You will never leave. GOT IT?!" He pulled me closer to his body when he shouted at me. I turned my head away and nodded. He threw me onto my bed so that I landed on my face. "GET TO BED! If I catch you trying to leave this house again at any time of the day there will be _more _trouble than what there will be tonight!" I turned on my side and with that a fist connected with my face and a few more blows to my rib cage. The pain continued for another ten minutes before he left the room leaving me crumpled up on my bed covered in new bruises.

XxXxXxXx

_Two days later_

After the incident when father found me trying to escape he called up my school and told me I was moving once again. So I have been locked in the house ever since.

I had been sat outside in the back garden where there was shade from the sun. I never really liked the sun, I burn far too easily. I had been sat outside on the decking for a good five hours, reading around three books that I brought outside with me. I had just finished the third book and decided that it was time to go back inside. Father was supposed to be home about half an hour ago so he would probably be hungry in an hour or so.

As I walked back into the house and I entered the living room it was completely silent and the post was still on the floor. I picked up the letters and looked around the room for any sign of life.

"Hello... father?!" There was no answer, he either didn't hear me or he wasn't in. I decided to get changed and make dinner. Father now trusted me with knives, I had learnt my lesson.

I began cutting the vegetables and put the meat on to cook. I found myself to be quite the skilled cook, not to boast in any way.

About twenty minutes had passed since I had entered the house and I heard a noise upstairs, I stopped dead. For some reason I looked up to the ceiling, god knows what I was looking for. I shook my head and continued with the food but another bang interrupted me. I'm sure that I could hear someone giggling as well. I carefully put the knife down.

Whatever was going on up there it was happening in father's bedroom. I cautiously walked out of the kitchen and into the living room, being as careful and quiet as possible.

I lifted my arm and stretched out my fingers until they gently grazed the banister that was connected to the large staircase.

Step by step I made my way up the stairs my heart was pounding out of my chest as the noises got louder. Halfway up I stepped on a creaking floorboard and froze on the spot when the noises stopped. I felt myself stop breathing as well.

Voices... I could hear voices and then the noises resumed. I let out the breath that I had been holding in and then proceeded to walk up the stairs. Once I reached the top it was as though I were in a horror film, everything happened in slow motion. My feet barely left the floor as I walked, I felt as though I was gliding across the corridor. Father's room was getting closer and my heart felt as though it was going to burst any minute. I reached out my hand once more and carefully my fingers wrapped around the door handle. I took a deep breath before slowly turning the knob and then all was revealed when the oak door drifted opened.

I shook my head trying to erase what I was witnessing. A scream erupted from the room and an angry shout. In front of my very eyes were my father and Charlotte... Charlotte the maid, the bitch from hell! They were in the middle of having sex before I interrupted.

My feet began walking backwards, they had a mind of their own. I was still in complete shock at the horrific sight. Charlotte hit my father on the arm and screamed at him.

"GO GET HIM!" He jumped off of the bed and ran towards me, I didn't stop to think I just turned and sprinted. He was close on my tail all of the time. I ran down the stairs almost tripping up more than once.

As soon I reached the bottom of the stairs I ran to the front door.

So close.

Just a bit further.

I have to get out of here!

Just a few more steps!

My hand was outstretched and ready to open the door. I grabbed the handle and turned it opening the door a few feet before an arm was wrapped around my waist and the door was slammed shut. I began kicking and screaming.

"NO! GET OFF OF ME! LET ME GO!" I was dragged into the kitchen and thrown on the floor. Charlotte ran into the room to join us she was now in a white dressing gown... my mother's! She threw a blue dressing gown at my father who was still stark bollock naked. He threw the item of clothing on his body and fastened it at the waistline. The two of them were staring down at me; charlotte had her arms folded across her chest.

"What do we do with him? He can't stay here now that he knows!" I slowly sat up and rested my back against the kitchen counter, wincing at the pain that shot through my side.

"He's going to a boarding school in a few days time, he should be alright there." They were talking about me as though I wasn't there. Charlotte nodded in agreement.

"But how will you know he'll keep his mouth shut?!" Father looked down at me with a suspicious look.

"Oh, he'll keep his mouth shut alright, won't you!" I stared up at him with wide eyes, I was scared of this man, and I had never known fear like it. I continued to look up at him and eventually found the strength to nod in reply. "Good!" There was a long awkward silence of the three of us staring at each other before the bitch sighed.

"Well... that's certainly put me out of the mood for today." Father rolled his eyes, he was obviously angry at me for interrupting his only chance at getting any sex, but of all the people to have intimate relations with, WHY HER?! "I'll get dressed and go." She wrapped her robe tighter around her not exactly thin but definitely chubby waist and that's when I noticed it, on her left hand.

"You're engaged?!" Her eyes widened as far as they could go.

"What?!"

"_WHAT?!_" I stared at my father... did he not... oh my god! _They're _not engaged, SHE IS! And not to my father!

Charlotte laughed nervously.

"Of course I'm no-" She attempted to hide the ring but my father was quick to grab her wrist to get a better look at what resided on her finger. The anger he had previously aimed at me was now nothing compared to what the bitch was experiencing.

"What's this?!" She nervously chuckled.

"This silly thing..? It was my mothers."

"And you wear it on that specific finger?!" He threw her hand away with such a force it nearly knocked her over.

"I uh-" He backhanded her across the cheek, it felt strange witnessing violence from my father, especially when it wasn't aimed at me. I couldn't help but wince, knowing that I had experienced this pain.

"You lied to me! You used me! For money!"

"No! Richard! I would never! I-" He hit her again causing me to flinch once more

"_LIES! ALL _LIES!" He turned his back on her, I couldn't see what he was doing from my seat on the kitchen floor but I could see he had grabbed something.

"Rich-AGH!" A loud clang echoed through the house and then a thud as Charlotte fell to the floor. I couldn't move, I couldn't even tear my eyes away from the scene before me.

There lay Charlotte, blood covering her face and hair, her breathing had become ragged and short. And my father, he was standing over her body, every part of him was tensed up and in one of his white knuckled fists was a frying pan covered in her blood.

He dropped the weapon and picked up the knife I had previously been using for the vegetables and crouched down over her. He raised his arm and with one swift movement brought it crashing down into her skull. One sight that disturbed me the most was how her legs twitched violently after the blow. He continued to stab her all over her body until he was fully satisfied with his work.

Blood...

There was blood everywhere, I couldn't look... but I couldn't turn away. I was trapped once more.

My father looked down at me, heaving heavy breaths. I took in the sight. He was covered in blood, it was even on his face, his eyes were dark and something evil resided in them, but it wasn't as if I didn't know that already.

He stared at me, bearing his teeth before speaking.

"Go to your room..." I didn't move a muscle, not even blinking. I was terrified. I had just witnessed my father murder another woman. I pray this time he doesn't tie me up and pretend it was a robbery, because let's be honest, that would look pretty suspicious having another murder in two years. "I SAID GET!" And with that I scrambled off of the floor and ran as fast as I could to my bedroom never looking back.

I had to escape this house, one way or another, I _had _to be free!

XxXxXxXx

Two hours later and I was still sat on my bed staring into space. My eyes were probably still wide with fear but to be honest I wouldn't even know I if I had blinked yet, I was stuck in some sort of trance.

Eventually the sound of my door slowly creaked open. I couldn't bring myself to turn around. I knew who it would be that was waiting. Waiting for a reaction out of me but I refused to give him one.

"You have questions..." I sighed, of course I had questions! How stupid was he being? I carefully brought myself to look up at him with almost teary eyes. I won't lie, what I witnessed today had brought back memories of my mother, and I hate it when father saw me at my most vulnerable, but for some strange reason I couldn't help my emotions slip through my barriers.

"How long?!" He chuckled and then smirked at me.

"You're smart enough, you work it out." I studied every inch of the monster before me and came to a conclusion. I gave him a disgusted look.

"How dare you! You've been at it like rabbits for at least three years! And when mother was STILL ALIVE!" He was silent for the moment so I decided to continue. "You make me sick! I bet you and _her _were dancing on mother's grave as soon as sh-" A flash of pain attacked my senses. A feeling of white hot pain erupted in the right side of my face helping me come to the conclusion that I had just been backhanded.

"You _DARE_ talk about _MY_ wife in that way again I'll make you regret it!" He firmly pointed his finger at me; the darkness in his eyes was as evil as I had ever seen it. He came closer to me and grabbed a fistful of my shirt pulling me close. "Now remember what we agreed downstairs, you're not to tell anyone _anything _about what happened tonight! Understood?!" I quickly nodded.

"Yes, father." He roughly shoved me away so that I landed on my back on the bed but unfortunately it was hard enough to make me whack my head against the headboard. There was no serious damage, probably just a bruise by tomorrow.

Father gave me a really creepy grin.

"Excellent!" He began to walk towards the open door and reached out a hand to hover over the light switch. "Sleep tight, Sherlock." He flicked the switch and closed the door leaving me in complete darkness. I hadn't even gotten dressed for bed but there were bigger things for me to worry about than not wearing pyjamas.

I, Sherlock Holmes, was living in the same house as a murderer. And that murderer was my father.

Who would be next to die at the hands of Richard Holmes?

And why do I get the horrible feeling that my time is coming to a very close end?

* * *

**Please review, I do write back now, because it's nice to get feedback from feedback :P**


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